One Trick Pony
by SinsofMidnight
Summary: The Kōketsuna Prince, Byakuya, is the crown prince of the small kingdom of Nigotta. Who wants the prince dead and what in the name of all things holy and unholy possessed him to make him believe that a boy whose only known talent involved his mouth could protect him from them -let alone, protect him at all?
1. Prologue

_I've found that I can't just keep saying, "Oh, I'm working on it; I promise!" about all of my in-progress stories, so here's the beginning of one I've been saving up for a while..._

* * *

**One Trick Pony**

**_Fandom:_**_ Bleach_

**_Teaser:_**_ "I looked over at my personal aid, who was bowing deeply just inside the doorway.  
'Yes?'  
He rose at my acknowledgement. Honestly, if I'd simply ignored him, he still would have stayed in that deep bow _until_ I acknowledged him –even if it was a week later."_

**_Inspiration:_**_ …I really have no _idea_ what made me want to write this! It provides a nice change of pace from my Bleach stripper-fic problem, though, haha…  
If I have to blame something, I think this could have been inspired by a fan-fiction called "The Prince and the Rebel" by ArtemisMS... I enjoy it so much each time I read it!_

**_Rating: _**_M, because… well, because Ichigo's in it, okay? lol_

**_Warnings:  
_**_-Secrets  
-Sensuality  
-Prostitution  
-Bureaucrats/Politics  
-Negligence  
-Assassination attempts  
-Dancing  
-Some mentions of abuse  
-Violence  
-…anything else that crops up…_

**_Main Pairing: _**_Byakuya Kuchki/Ichigo Kurosaki_

**_Minor Pairings:_**_  
-(percieved) Byakuya Kuchiki/Hisana Kuchiki  
-(onesided) Rukia Kuchiki/Renji Abarai  
-(sexual) Renji Abarai/"Strawbery"  
-(onesided) Kaien Shiba/Rukia Kuchiki  
-(past) Kaien Shiba/Miyako Shiba  
-(past) Isshin Shiba/Misaki Kurosaki  
-Toshiro Hitsugaya/Rangiku Matsumoto  
-(past, onesided) Ichigo Kurosaki/Zangetsu [More Tensa Zangetsu in appearance…]_

**_Setting: _**_AU! In a far-away kingdom called Nigotta where Byakuya is the crown prince :P_

**_POV:_**_ Renji, who watches over the crown prince; Byakuya, who _is_ the crown prince; Ichigo, who would be the consort to the crown prince; Rukia, who is the crown prince's sister; Kaien, who guards the princess. First person from all of them._

**_Summary:_**_ The Kōketsuna Prince, Byakuya, is the crown prince of the small kingdom of Nigotta. He is, by far, too serious for his youthfulness. But when he comes of age, his personal aid drags him to the red-light district, sighting that he had the perfect gift for the chaste prince. He introduces him to the most prestigious prostitute in the kingdom: an orange-haired boy not much older than the prince himself.  
The prince spends one night with the boy, then invites the boy to come and live as his personal servant in the palace, leaving the public to speculate about the next three months, which they spend most of together. No one is more surprised than Princess Rukia when her brother makes the boy -who he now calls Ichigo- his personal bodyguard. Who wants the prince dead and what in the name of all things holy and unholy possessed him to make him believe that a boy whose only known talent involved his mouth could protect him from them -let alone, protect him at all?_

**_Additional ANs:_**_ This story… the plot promises an _epic_, not a short story, for which I apologize profusely. The last thing I need is a legitimate excuse to drag a story out like this. The plot line of this one, however, lends it length. I can't make it short and tie it up with a bow without rushing things and surrendering some of the elements that were to characterize this piece.  
So please: wait on this story. From what my muses tell me, it _will_ be worth it.  
Oh, and in case you wondered:  
The kingdom this takes place in is called Nigotta (__濁った__), which means "murky". The neighboring kingdom is Kōsei (__公正__) which means "justice". Byakuya's title, Kōketsuna (__高潔な__) roughly means "virtuous or honorable". The club Kisuke Urahara runs is called Amai Kisu! (__甘いキス__!__) which means "Sweet Kiss!".The capital city of Nigotta is called Kakoku (__過酷__) which means "severity". When anyone is addressed as or referred to as Ōji (__王子__), that means "prince". If my translations are wrong, blame Google Translate :P_

**_Universe:_**_ "One Trick Pony" 'verse. This story named and originated this universe._

* * *

_Renji:_

Anyone could tell you that there was something odd about the prince. Most of them would even take the time to debate with you over whether or not it was a good thing that he was the way he was. Those of us who have actually had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of the crown prince all agreed that his seriousness would mean good things for our country, especially on the heels of his parents' frivolousness. Still, most people –even those who had met him– wouldn't even hazard a guess as to _why_ he was so different.

What set me apart from those people is that I had more than just a notion as to the answer to the question that plagued the kingdom.

Byakuya, the Kōketsuna Prince, had old eyes. He'd simply seen too much darkness despite his mere seventeen years. It could probably be blamed –at least in part– on his upbringing: his parents, who didn't _care_ about him once they had their male heir, who left him to be reared by various callous nannies, tutors, and aids. Or maybe part of it should be blamed on the death of the beautiful Hisana, his young wife of three short years, who had passed away suddenly despite her valiant struggle against the illness she had been fighting as long as I'd known her.

As she left this world, she took his elusive smile with her. Even before then, Prince Byakuya had always been a very serious child. His posture was impeccable, his mannerisms perfect, and his speech precise, but he'd never smiled or played as much as any other boy I'd ever met. I'd hoped that when Hisana became his bride when he was thirteen that she would bring out his smile more and help him open up more, but since her death, he'd become even more stiff and distant from everyone, even from his younger sister, Princess Rukia.

I'd been with the prince his entire life. I was his personal aid, assigned to him on the day of his birth. Perhaps that was why I was always so concerned about him: I had practically raised him. However, the truth was that while he trusted me more than the others –perhaps _because_ I'd been there to change his diapers, play with him when he was young, and answer his awkward teenage questions, rather than in spite of those facts– he still did not completely trust me, nor did he always take me into his confidence.

However, I was still privy to certain information that most people never knew –things like the fact that despite the three-year marriage, the shared chambers, and the shared bed, Hisana and Byakuya both remained chaste even up to her death. The commoner bride of the crown prince had also become very close to me, and she shared other tidbits of personal information about the prince because I was one of the only people who knew enough about her husband to understand. In fact, I'd been the one to suggest to Byakuya that he smear blood on the sheets to not shame his wife to his kingdom. Very few people knew enough of the prince to know that his tastes didn't run toward the fairer sex, and that would be a disastrous fact to become widely known: the people would panic and worry about the fate of the throne, and that was leaving off the stigma that came with being gay. In fact, I believed that even Princess Rukia was still in the dark about her brother's sexuality, and she would be _enraged_ if she knew how long she had been kept in the dark.

Tomorrow, Prince Byakuya would become of age.

Shopping for the crown prince would be a difficult task for even me. The big question is always, 'What _do_ you get the man who has everything?' Any special occasion –birthdays, Christmas, other decadent affairs of state– just served to increase his amount of 'everything'. I was curious to see the variety of gifts that would arrive at the palace tomorrow, because even the lower classes loved the Kōketsuna Prince.

Luckily for me, I already knew the _perfect_ gift for the chaste prince, and I had taken pains to arrange for it to be properly prepared and waiting for him. Now, if only I could arrange a way to whisk the prince out of his gilded cage for a night so he could enjoy it.

* * *

_In the famous words of Brendon Urie,"And I believe this may call for a proper introduction, and well don't you see, I'm the narrator, and this is just the prologue?"_

_I couldn't resist._

_Hope the prologue does its job and pulls you in!_

_Let me know what you like, what you hate, who you want to hear from next... ect. al. :P_

_Ever at your pleasure,  
~Sins~_

743 words - Prologue


	2. Chapter 1

_So I got this awesome review from someone that calls themselves "ATP"._

_And this wonderful reviewer wanted to know where Byakuya's title (the Kōketsuna Prince) came from._

_So, I thought I would reveal part of my secrets before I posted another short part._

_Nigotta (the kanji for the word I used: 濁った), acording to Google Translate (no one said I was a professional :P) means "murky"._  
_Byakuya's title, Kōketsuna (the kanji for the word I used: 高潔な) roughly means "virtuous or honorable". These notations and more have been added to the ANs in the first chapter..._

_Moving on! The next part is also short, but it gives you a bit of perspective from the Prince himself~ Feel honored, all of you subjects :P_

* * *

_Byakuya:_

Most people would be excited to come of age.

Then again, most people weren't the crown prince of Nigotta, for which they should probably be thanking whatever gods they have.

Each day that I survived brought me one step closer to the throne. Each day I survive also put every single person around me in terrible danger. The Kōketsuna Prince was a prime target for assassination, since many nobles were still determined to fight amongst themselves for the crown, and that put anyone that I came into contact with and anyone that I cared about at risk. I'd already lost Hisana and at least five aids to these attempts on my life.

I was almost afraid of what my eighteenth birthday would mean to those who wanted me dead. Would they just give up, since my parents were on their way out anyway? Or would it become a catalyst for more serious and deadly attacks that would only cease when I took the throne? Or would they ever stop? I didn't like having to deal with such uncertainties when it came to my own life, or the lives of those around me.

"Your highness?"

I looked over at my personal aid, who was bowing deeply just inside the doorway.

"Yes?"

He rose at my acknowledgement. Honestly, if I had decided to simply ignored him, Renji would have stayed in that deep bow until I acknowledged him –even if it was a week later. Well, he would until he fell over.

"I was wondering…" he started. He halted abruptly to close the door behind him. When he turned around again, his serious expression turned into a wide grin. "I was wondering if it would be possible for you to… escape your gilded birdcage to celebrate your birthday in Kakoku instead of in the palace."

Ah, so it wasn't official business. I allowed a small smile to pull at my lips. Renji Abarai had been with me all of my life. He was actually a very energetic and entertaining man, as long as it wasn't "royal business". He had been the closest thing I really had to a friend when I was very young, if I were to be completely honest, and he was especially dear to me since he had been close to my late wife.

He smiled back at me. "I have prepared a gift for you, your highness, that you should enjoy. If you can get away from your duties, that is."

I thought about it. My ever-frivolous parents were throwing yet another celebration to mark my birthday –a particularly _huge_ ball since it was to mark my coming of age. I figured that if I danced with the queen and my sister once each, I should be able to escape relatively unnoticed and unscathed.

Well, unless the queen had decided to invite all of the marriageable females in the kingdom again. I tried not to shutter at the notion. She hadn't done that since I'd married Hisana, and it would take more effort than she wanted to expend on the child she preferred to ignore, anyway.

However, the fact that _Renji_ had prepared me a present intrigued me more. Renji frequently accused me of being the man who had every possession imaginable, and he declared that my birthdays just seemed to add more 'everything'. "What sort of gift have you prepared?" I asked him, unable to stem my own curiosity.

His russet eyes took on a dark gleam. "I believe you will totally and thoroughly _enjoy_ it," he declared.

I wasn't sure how much I should trust that gleam in his eyes, but I did know that I could always trust the confidence and certainty that had rung out in his voice. Slowly, I gave him a nod of acquiesce. "I should be able to get away. I believe you are allowed to celebrate my birthday with me," I returned wryly, almost playfully.

A grin nearly split his face. "I do hope so, since I've been doing so for nearly eighteen years now," he replied.

* * *

_Again, it's short and a bit of a tease. Now, just wait until the next chapter, in which we will go to a particular part of the kingdom and encounter one Berry-tan :P_

_I hope to get that one up soon, too, but it's snowing here, so I can't promise much!_

_Ever at your pleasure,  
~Sins~_

677 words - Chapter 1


	3. Chapter 2

_Welcome to the third part! I hope you are all having a pleasant day -and that maybe finding out this story was updated made it a bit better :))_

_As for chapter three, I fear it's all Ichigo, all the time... but at least it's fun, ne? _

_Enjoy, my doves!_

* * *

_Ichigo:_

"Boy, you have the night off," Mayuri told me off-handedly.

"What?" I asked, pretty sure he finally _had_ gone completely off the deep end

Everyone knew that I was the biggest money maker in the brothel. If the man I worked for really _meant_ what he'd just said, that would mean kissing at least _half_ the profits he could have made tonight goodbye, and that was not my pride talking. And believe you me: Mayuri Kurotsuchi was a man who believed money made the world go 'round.

Forsaking that, taking tonight off would mean kissing a good-sized portion my own income goodbye _and_ being out on the street at the end of the month because I wouldn't have enough to make rent. Needless to say, I was more than a little apprehensive upon hearing such a pronouncement.

"You are not working tonight," he enunciated, as though I were hard of hearing. He paused for a moment before bellowing, "Nemu!"

I was unsure if the fact I wasn't working was connected to him calling for Nemu, so it was best to linger and find out. If I walked out of his office and the two _were_ connected, both Nemu and myself would be beaten so hard we couldn't work the next night, which would just snowball his rage for the rest of the month. If they weren't connected at all, the only one to suffer his normal insults would be me.

Beautiful, timid Nemu Kurotsuchi slipped quietly into the office, tugging at the tails of her short yukata. "Yes, Father?"

"Take the boy. He's to be washed and taken to Yumichika's. Then bring him to Zan." He waved his hand dismissively at both of us.

Nemo reached for my arm and led me out of Mayuri's office.

"What in the hell?" I asked her as soon as the door closed behind us.

She shushed me quickly. "Wait until we're in the bathhouse, Berry-chan."

The walk to the bathhouse was in strained silence. I knew what going to Yumi's and Zan's meant: I needed to be presentable to an important client. Despite my popularity, I had never rated such treatment, though others in the brothel certainly had. I had several simple serviceable yukatas for work and the manners of a commoner, despite the fact I wasn't quite as common as some of the others. Being sent to Yumichika happened by appointment only –he was one of the most sought-after clothing designers in the city and he worked one-on-one with his clients as frequently as possible. Being sent to Zan meant I needed to learn the conduct becoming of a _courtesan_, as opposed to the manners of a street-whore.

Just who in the hell would I be receiving?

When we reached the bathhouse, Nemu pulled me into the private section –reserved for the _best_ of us, not the most popular. The door had barely closed behind us when she reached for the knot of my obi and nimbly untied it. She made quick work of the rest of my clothes and I wondered if I should be embarrassed. Nemu certainly was _lovely_, and though she was timid, she had let me know she was interested in me. Reciprocating her affections would mean risking Mayuri's wrath, but that obviously hadn't stopped me from refusing to be used as hard as some of the others allowed themselves to be.

She disrobed herself and I decided to be thoroughly embarrassed over everything else. One would think that being comfortable with your own nudity would be conducive to being comfortable with someone else's, but evidently not. It might have more to do with the fact that most of my clients were male, and Nemu was nothing if not _distinctly_ female.

Things were quiet and awkward as she ushered me into the bath and poured the first bucket of hot water over me.

She began to scrub my back as she leaned to whisper in my ear, "Apparently, one of your regulars has recommended you to someone high-ranked. He's footing the bill, but apparently you're a present. As such, Father wants you to be 'appropriately wrapped and presented' for whatever person you will be receiving."

I swallowed hard and picked up the second sponge, scrubbing at my limbs until the skin was flushed and pink.

_A present?_ I wondered as the fragrance of the perfumed soap filled the room.

I had been merchandise for most of my life, if I were honest. I'd sold myself to it at a young age to keep my younger sisters from being forced to do the same. For a long time, I'd been less than human to anyone who frequented whatever establishment I had been working at. Honestly, though Mayuri was crazy as all hell and could be a little rough with us, this was still the nicest place I'd worked.

This was certainly the first time anyone had thought so highly of me as to make my time with someone a gift. And not just a gift for a commoner –a gift for someone of high rank, like a diplomat or a foreign prince or something. My mind hadn't stopped reeling since Nemu had whispered those words in my ear.

A second bucket of hot water cascading down on my head and my body brought my mind back to reality. I hadn't even felt Nemu wash my hair, but she clearly had, since it smelled like something oceanic.

I blinked at her and she just smiled.

"Dress in this," she directed, pointing at a faded red kimono that was neatly folded on a stool. Draped overtop it was a jet-black obi. "Then we'll go see Yumichika."

I decided not to point out her nudity, since she'd had the forethought to bring clean clothes for _me_. Despite her father's constant verbal abuse and chastisements, she was incredibly competent.

We dressed in silence and I took a deep breath. I'd heard some strange things about the man I was going to see, but I chose to discard them. Let the first impression be important all the way around.

* * *

_Ichigo:_

"Mayuri really should have given me more notice for something like this," complained one Ayasegawa Yumichika as he looked me over. "He _knows_ I always need more time for the first fitting, yet there he goes again, expecting me to cram it all into a smaller time-slot! Honestly, if I had any sense, I'd just kill the man: then I wouldn't have to deal with any more of his _people_."

I kind of liked his complaints, mostly because he didn't seem the type of man to be pushed around. The complaints would have stung a little, had he been more focused on the statements than on my body.

"Ikkaku!" he called as he approached me.

"Yeah, Yumi?" replied an annoyed looking man with a shaved head who was propping up one of the walls.

"Fetch my kit, please," Yumichika directed. "Nemu, wait in the parlor, will you please?"

Nemu simply nodded and I found myself alone with the strange, oddly beautiful man.

His dark hair was straight and cut beneath his chin, which flattered his facial structure. Every single hair was perfectly in place and for a moment, I wondered what his secret was. Then I noticed what had to be feather extensions to his eyelashes and his eyebrow. The bright red and yellow feathers would have looked utterly ridiculous on someone else, but on him, they seemed to emphasize the subtle beauties of his face.

_Great. I'm waxing poetic over a _man_ who is now in charge of my body for the next… three hours?_

"Did you fall in love, handsome, or shall I walk by once more?" he inquired sweetly, batting his lashes at me.

"I… I apologize for staring. I'd heard rumors about you, but I never expected you to be so _gorgeous_." I gave him a small smile, wondering how he'd receive the compliment.

He preened for a moment, absolutely giddy about the compliment. After that, he took a deep steadying breath and looked to me. "Disrobe, silly boy. If I'm to create something for you, I need to see the charms of what I'm working with." His tone was light, like he was afraid he might say the wrong thing.

Bowing my head forward, I looked at the floor and slowly reached for the knot I'd tied in the obi. I'd grown very good at tying them so that they were easy to undo when needed, because it was something frequently required in my line of work. When the obi was untied, I released it and let it flutter to the floor. I parted the red kimono easily, then slipped out of one sleeve, then the other. Standing before him in nothing more than the under garment, I shrugged out of it slowly and met his eyes as it dropped to the floor.

"Who taught you to undress that way?" he asked, his tone a bit sharp.

"Uh, I don't think anyone did," I replied cautiously.

He raised his right brow. "Really? I would have guessed a woman taught you. This is the first time I have ever seen a man undress as sensually as you do."

I wasn't sure if it was a compliment or not, but I felt the heat in my cheeks. Turning under the guise of picking up and folding my clothes, I waiting until the heat faded a little before turning back around.

"Don't take this the wrong way, handsome, but I'm going to familiarize myself with your body a little," he told me with a cheeky smile. "I need a good understanding of your body to showcase it."

I said nothing but nodded my consent because he seemed to need it.

His hands settled on my shoulders briefly, then traced down both arms as though to memorize the musculature beneath the skin. Soft fingers traced my skin from my pectorals to my thighs. Then a gentle hand traced the slope of my spine and the curve of my butt, where it rested for a moment. Taking a moment to sit on a stool before me, he resumed his thorough examination by caressing the front and outer side of each of my legs, one at a time. He nudged my knee and I parted my legs further. Nodding as he went, he touched the inside of my thigh with a pair of fingers.

Rising quickly, he looked at me quizzically. "How long is your hair?"

Sheepishly, I reached back and released the pony-tail that kept my hair out of my way. I knew the lengths were ragged –the last time they'd been cut, it had been with a knife– and it hadn't received the attention it deserved if I persisted in keeping a mane.

He walked behind me and finger combed the length before _tutting_ at me. "This is _awful_, Berry-san. Your mother would be ashamed to see your hair in this condition!"

_My mother would be ashamed to see _me_ in this condition,_ I thought wryly.

"I shall have to cut it to make you presentable. Any preferences?" he asked.

"I place myself into your hands," I returned rather formally before remembering that a commoner wouldn't use such language.

_Fucking hell. I'm an_ idiot_! Why not just _announce_ it?_

Luckily, Yumichika didn't think anything of it. "That's an astute decision, Berry-san. I _do_ usually know best in these matters." He paused and perused my body once more with his dark eyes.

The way that Yumichika looked at me wasn't the same as when anyone else looked at me. When Mayuri looked me over, all he saw was a profit. In contrast, when my clients looked at me, all they saw was a pleasure-object. It was strange: when Yumichika looked at me, it was as though he saw a work of art that should be marveled over and caressed and memorized.

I wasn't just an object to Yumichika, and that fact made me like the man all the more.

"Hmm," he murmured to himself. "With that complexion and that hair color… something dark, I think… maybe something in black? Do I have something majestic enough in the back, then?" He continued to mutter to himself for a few more moments before looking at me. "Oh! Do put your clothes back on, handsome. I can't cut your hair if you're naked."

Shaking my head, I couldn't help but smile at the strange man. Such a strange set of rules, yet they definitely worked for him.

I'd barely slipped back into my clothes and tied the obi once more when the man I'd seen earlier came in. He looked a great deal less annoyed than before, perhaps because he'd likely spent a good portion of time alone in the parlor with Nemu to allow Yumichika time to… examine me.

"Ah, there you are, Ikkaku. Do you have the good shears, as well? I shall have to cut his hair," Yumichika informed him.

"They're in the case," he replied, handing Yumichika a large box.

"Thank you. Can you please check what fabrics we have in dark gray to black?" he returned with more politeness than I'd seen him use with his assistant in the past.

Ikkaku looked shocked for an instant, but recovered quickly. "It shall be done, though I do warn you we probably don't have much in that color group. As you'll recall, you rarely work with it."

"Let me know what we have. I only have _at most_ twenty-four hours to put this together," he replied absently, his mind already elsewhere. When he pulled a brush and a pair of scissors out of the case, he gave me a smile. "Lucky for you, handsome, I do my best work under pressure."

* * *

_Ichigo:_

An hour and a half later, my hair had be cut and styled before Yumi –he insisted I call him that– had carefully shown me how I was to wear my hair the following evening before pinning it all up with a pair of hair sticks. I had been wrapped in the most _exquisite_ silks in existence, pinned within an inch of my life, teased and otherwise treated like a human being that had been confused for a mannequin.

When it was time to leave, Yumi kissed my cheek lightly, and reminded me, "Take care of your hair, or the next time I see you, I'll strangle you with it."

I'd thrown back my head and laughed. "I'll take care of it," I told him fondly. "Such a lovely creature as yourself should never have to resort to murder."

The streets were quiet as Nemu escorted me to my next location.

"You enjoyed being Yumichika's human pin-cushion," she observed softly as we walked.

I smiled at her. "Yumi didn't just treat me as a human pin-cushion and a dress-up doll, Nemu. And yes, I did enjoy it."

She frowned at me. "Explain."

"He treated me like I was a piece of art. No, more than that, he treated me like I was a person. I've spent so long being a product to be sold that I guess I'd sort of forgotten how nice it feels to be appreciated and liked for myself rather than for what I can do. I mean, I know I have a few friends who definitely see me that way," I added quickly before she could protest, "but a complete stranger looked at my naked body and thought it was a work of art to showcase. It's a bit of a high. Does that make any sense?"

We halted before a large house and she looked at me for a moment before she stood on her tip-toes and kissed my cheek. "I think I understand, Berry-chan."

I looked at the large house for a few moments and felt a prickle of familiarity. "What is this place?"

"This is where Zan lives," she told me softly.

_Hot _damn_, this is going to suck,_ I thought, swallowing hard as I eyed the familiar building._ Especially if "Zan" is who I think he is…_

* * *

_Well, if it hasn't become clear to you, I apparently tripped somewhere and fell in love with Yumichika. I don't think he minds much at all XD  
So, Yumi ended up as a bit of a fashion designer here. I thought the job suited him well! Sorry; he kinda got free-reign to touch my Ichi, but he didn't do it in a pervy way, if that makes anyone feel better... ARGH, I want my Yumichika-sama to play a larger role now!  
_

_Anyone want to hazard a guess as to who Zan is? I'll tell you next chapter, I promise!_

_Ichigo's character in this piece is certainly complex, though... He surprises even me every now and then :P Oh, and what secrets is our Berry-chan hiding? Who wants to know? I know I do~_

_Nemu liking Ichigo... Well, that just happened. So did that bath scene. Sorry 'bout that madness..._

_Also, owning a brothel doesn't seem too out of character for Mayuri Kurotsuchi to me... One of the reasons that he is the one who holds Ichigo's leash for now is because there's apparently a bit of a battle over control in the Red Light District... between Kurotsuchi and Urahara... muwahaha!_

_Anywho, I apologize that such a long chunk all came from Ichigo's POV this time... But I really wanted to have this whole thing with Yumichika this chapter, and so I couldn't really change perspective unless I wanted to go from Yumi's, Nemu's, or Mayori's, and though it pains me, neither of them are very big players in this whole thing..._

_If any of you have a clue (I don't think I do), feel free to tell me what time-period you think this is set it... I kinda have a bit of an older feel to it at points, yet at points it can be very modern... Help!_

_2681 words and not a wink of sleep... you better love me, doves! Please review and tell me how you liked it all!_

_Ever at your pleasure,  
~Sins~_

_PS: to the reviewer under the alias of ADP: I do wish you would log in so I could just message you, buuut, here lies the reply to your review.  
_

I'm glad you love the direction of the story.

Renji was not only care-taker but playmate! He's older then Bya, but I haven't decided how much yet... And he isn't in love with Princess Rukia :P But Rukia does have a ginormous crush on him, as will be seen later~

And, I promise I won't drop this story :) It's such a joy to write and twist!_  
_


	4. Chapter 3

_When I posted part 3, I asked if any of you knew what time period this story would fit in. Is it in the past? The present? The distant future?_

_My reigning theory -subject to change, as needed- is that it is set in the present time. The reasoning behind that... well, it will become a little clearer after you read this chapter :))_

_So I invite you: pull up a chair, relax, and grab a beverage (please don't pour it on your keyboard; I've done that enough for all of us)._

_Chapter 3 begins... now!_

* * *

_Ichigo:_

"Absolutely not! I will _not_ teach this boy!"

The denial would not have seemed near as strenuous from anyone else, but for this stoic man who usually luxuriated in the glories of monotone to raise his voice, it indicated some level of distress.

"But sir, he needs to be taught the behaviors," Nemu protested softly, obviously having never seen this man have such an outburst before.

I eyed the man. He'd aged since I'd last seen him, but it was definitely the same man I'd known when I was younger. He was tall, taller than most any man I'd ever met before, with a lean build. Somehow, he was still just as pale as he'd always been, or maybe that was just how he seemed. His dark hair was longer now and the stubble was a new addition, but he still wore the same familiar white dress-shirt with the collar turned up and black overcoat, the same black slacks and low-heeled boots that clicked across the wooden floor. Of course, that coat certainly looked worse for wear: the tattered ends fluttered behind him to echo his every move. The wraparound sunglasses were certainly a new addition, though; however, they only partially shielded one from the piercing power of his pale blue eyes.

"No, he doesn't need to learn a damn thing. This child was not common-bred, though I cannot believe he chose to mingle with _Mayuri Kurotsuchi_, of all people. Your father would kill you if he knew, Ichi."

Hearing my true name –well, at least _part_ of it– on his tongue warmed me inside. "Now, now. My father would simply have a heart-attack if he ever became aware of how I make my living, Zangetsu-shissou," I returned, trying to suppress the smile twitching at my lips.

"See now, Nemu?" he inquired, gesturing to me broadly. "This boy merely needs to invoke his court manners, manners which are already ingrained in him, considering the nature of _both_ of his parents."

Her eyes darted from Zangetsu to me, then back again. "You… you two know each other?" she squeaked out.

The joy I had felt upon reuniting with my former master fell flat and dissipated quickly. I knew Nemu: she was an exceedingly bright woman. Given the evidence, I knew without a doubt that she would realize what these things meant: that I was indeed high-born, not common as I had led her and her father to believe. I didn't want to explain the whole mess to anyone, really. It was depressing to dwell on the past when I knew the future ahead of me as well as I knew my profession –since they were one and the same.

Yet, ironically, it was my former master –the same man who had inadvertently revealed my secret– that went out of his way to save me from it.

"It's not my place to say. If he wants to pretend to be a _fruit_ of all things, who am I to stop him?" He looked to me and raised his eyebrow quizzically. "But seriously, Ichi? _Strawberry_?"

I shrugged. "If you want originality, I'm fresh out. Honestly, Shissou: I have the manners, but I have no idea how to use them in a situation like this one. We don't even really know who the guest I'm to receive is! I really don't want to go into that situation unprepared."

He sighed that same heavy sigh that he always sighed right before he gave in to me. "Alright, fine. I'll teach you. But you owe me an honest explanation, Ichi." He looked at me I could _feel_ his curiosity dancing just beneath the surface.

I winced. It wasn't the first time that wheedling something I wanted out of my shissou led to an inescapable something _else_ that I was certain to be extremely disgruntled about, and I had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time, either. At least he'd taken mercy on me and consented to instruct me. "Alright," I agreed.

Absently, my gaze sought out Nemu. She was looking at us with a combination of awe and confusion. When I stepped toward her, she blinked and looked up at me. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I gave her a gentle smile. "Go home, Nemu. If Mayuri asks… tell him that you were ordered to leave. I promise you, I'll explain it all to you later. For now, just trust me and go."

Wide, glassy eyes looked up at me. "How will you find your way back?"

"I remember the way to Yumi's and the way here from there. I'll back-track. Besides, Shissou and I have a lot of catching up to do." I lifted one hand and cupped her cheek. "Please keep my secret, Nemu. You'll understand why later, but _please_, keep my secret."

She swallowed hard, then nodded. "Alright. I'll go, and I won't say anything to Father. But in return… trust me a little more, Berry-chan. Okay?"

I kissed her cheek and hugged her tight for a moment. "Okay," I consented. "Now go: it will get dark soon, and I won't feel safe having you walk home all alone."

Her smile was bright but a little forced. "Have fun, you two." Then she quietly slipped back out the door we'd come in."

"Now: where were we?" he asked, drawing my attention back to the matters at hand.

"Etiquette lessons, my dear Shissou," I responded. "Teach me how to receive a high-ranked man."

He winced at my blunt wording. "Receiving a higher-ranked guest." He murmured the correction, his mind obviously elsewhere. With vacant eyes, he led me down a darkened hallway and pointed to a door. "Enter this room. You'll be waiting on your guest, not vice versa. We shall attempt a bit of role-playing –one that obviously won't go near as far as your evening is expected to."

I nodded, then entered the room. It was well lit and richly brocaded in burgundy and gold. Large plush pillows sat on opposite ends of a sleek, low table. A complete tea-service set of delicate pale-green porcelain awaited on the table, steam rising from the spout of the pot. I moved to stand just behind the pillow farthest from the door and waited.

_"When you're awaiting a guest,"_ I remembered my mother instructing, _"you remain standing. When they arrive, you invite them to take a seat, but you do not take a seat until after your guest has taken theirs. Then, offer then a hot cup of tea. Be thoughtful and charming, but not overwhelming."_

A knock sounded at the door.

"Enter," I acquiesced softly.

The door opened and I heard the _click_, _click_ of his boot heels across the floor.

I met his gaze as he approached and smiled demurely, as my mother had once taught me. "Please, take a seat."

With a wry half-smile, Shissou sat down on the burgundy pillow. I allowed five seconds to pass before even considering taking my seat on the matching pillow.

"Can I offer you some tea?" I inquire softly, politely.

"Tea would be wonderful," he responded, a larger smile tugging at his lips.

It seemed that Shissou was right, after all: I _did_ already possess the proper manners to receive such a guest.

_I hate it when I have to give him something for nothing,_ I groaned in my head, but I maintained the proper façade as our lesson continued.

* * *

_Byakuya:_

"Byakuya!" my mother exclaimed, her tone sharpening in her displeasure.

"Yes, Mother?" I inquired emotionlessly.

"Why aren't you _happier_, Byakuya? You'll be of age tomorrow. There will be a grand celebration to mark the occasion. Surely even _you_ can work up some enthusiasm!" she demanded.

I looked at her. "It doesn't move me," I stated simply, content to ignore her raging until it went away.

"_Hajime_," she whined to Father. "Why do we have such an ungrateful son, my love?"

Father looked at me, looked at my mother, then returned to his wine. I couldn't tell if he was more disappointed in me for upsetting Mother or upset with Mother for interrupting his consumption of the wine for such a silly matter.

Unfortunately, Mother's whining grated on my nerves –and that would mean not even _thinking _about what she had said!

I didn't want them to waste excessive amounts of money that _should_ go back into the betterment of Nigotta and that made me an _ungrateful_ child?

Then what about _them_? My frivolous parents spent every single dime of the money our citizens paid in taxes –and they squandered it all on parties and drinks and clothes. Things that would not last and would not profit anyone but themselves, the whole lot of them! Perhaps they had grown too comfortable on their thrones and with their power, because they had clearly forgotten why the Kuchikis had been given that power in the first place!

"Mother, you know that Byakuya only attends parties to humor you. It's no great shock that he finds no pleasure in them," my sister interjected before the rage in my mind built beyond the levels of my control. "Obviously, he will attend the celebration you throw for him tomorrow night" – I heard what she wished to interject there: _and none of the guests would ever guess that he'd rather stab himself in the stomach with the nearest sharp object than attend_ –" so please, just relax."

I smiled at my surprisingly level-headed younger sister.

Rukia was a bit of a miracle. I had no _idea_ how she had turned out as well as she had, but I wouldn't be able to survive life in my own home if she wasn't around. She knew _just_ the way to talk to Mother and have her calm instantly. Father was definitely wrapped around her finger, as well. Of course, that all hinged on them actually acknowledging her _existence_, which only happened on the odd occasion, anyway.

Quickly, I rose from the table. Without a word, I walked away from dinner and out onto the secluded terrace.

Dinner always made me feel quite sullen. Here we were, the nation's royalty, with a banquet prepared upon our table, most of which would be left behind and carried away by the kitchen staff. Yet it was common knowledge that there was a large portion of our population starving and committing inconceivable acts to ensure their own survival. It made me feel both angry and helpless all at once.

"Byakuya." Rukia's hand was warm on my wrist. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I returned, still staring out into the gardens. "You know, I would like to celebrate my birthday in some different way for once in my life."

"I know, Onii-sama. In time, you will be able to celebrate however you wish. But for now, do I still get my annual dance in your rose garden?"

I couldn't help but smile at that. Before my Hisana had died, I would dance with her in my rose garden on my birthday. It had been Rukia that insisted on carrying on with that tradition in the years since. It was the only thing I demanded on my birthday –my one pleasure on a day meant to celebrate me. It meant the world to me.

"Of course, Rukia. We shall dance among the roses, just as we usually do."

"You feel like working up to something a little more risqué than a waltz this year?" she asked. "I think it would be worth at _least_ a year's amusement from the rumors."

"I feel like running away," I confessed softly.

She leaned against my shoulder. "Stay. Please stay, Byakuya. It won't be much longer before they back out of their roles because they're bored and you can step up and make this nation great once more. Please don't leave me alone with them. You know that they only treat me well to humor you."

It was sad but true. My precious younger sister was precious only to one member of the royal family: me. She could cajole and manipulate our parents, but they wouldn't even give her the time of day if I wasn't so attached to her. They humored me by taking care of her, yet they also chained me to this _stupid_ palace with its _stupid_ rules and regulations with the same act. I could never leave if I couldn't take her with me, and there weren't many places that I could go. I was born and bred to rule. My education had prepared me for that role in life and little else.

I was born and bred to rule. Each passing year meant nothing if I could not assume the throne and right the decades of neglect my own parents had rained down upon their people. I was the only hope of Nigotta: I had known that every bit as long as I had known the responsibilities of a king. What was worse was that even the most common of the citizens knew that fact with great certainty.

No. I could never abandon Nigotta –or my younger sister.

"You know I never will, Rukia. I can't." I gave her a sad smile.

But I _could_ sneak out of the celebration tomorrow night and spend my evening investigating the only present I had any interest in receiving. Rukia certainly wouldn't blame me –she knew just how much I hated these functions and how every single woman would _throw_ herself at me at every opportunity. My mother wouldn't hate me any more than she usually did. Father really wouldn't give a damn, so long as his glass never emptied, and Mother would see to that.

"So, are you going to sneak out of that blasted ball?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"I'm going to sneak out of this blasted _palace_," I murmured. At her alarmed look, I quickly added, "Not for good. Just for the night. There's a person who has never given me a birthday present before, and he wishes to this year. I want to humor him, mostly because he intends to take me into Kakoku."

Rukia drew a harsh breath.

Neither one of us had been beyond the walls of the palace in _years_ –since the fateful day that I had met Hisana in the market, in fact. The palace was a lovely cage, but a cage nonetheless. I had hungered to see the world beyond the walls since I was very young, so I had taken my parents' pronouncement very hard. Of course, they had made the pronouncement because of their great displeasure at my marriage when I was only 13. The legalities of the union would have been rather sketchy, but for the fact I was the crown prince. My word was law, as I found out then, and my parents hadn't wanted me to exercise that power ever again until they were willing to surrender their crowns.

"Don't go marrying any more strange women, Byakuya," she cautioned lightly.

I smiled at her. "I promise, Rukia: no more wives."

* * *

_Renji:_

I looked at Mayuri. Gods, this man had always given me the _creeps_, but I had been so drawn to the boy known only as Strawberry that I pushed past that fact and dealt with Mayuri when necessary.

"Is there any chance that I could see Strawberry tonight and talk to him about tomorrow?" I inquired.

Mayuri turned his head. "Nemu!" he bellowed. "Where are you, you worthless girl?"

"Here, Father," she answered softly, slipping into the office quietly.

"Where is the boy?"

"I left him at Zan's. Apparently, there was a lot to teach him and little time to do it in, so I was ordered to return so I could be of used to you." She bowed deeply.

My heart hurt for the poor girl. This man was her _father_, and he treated her like he tended to treat his whores. I wished I could get her out of it, but I wondered if she would leave the only life she'd ever known.

He huffed angrily. "Damn that high-handed man! If there was anyone else who could teach those skills, I'd just be done with him entirely!" His attention returned to me. "Since he's apparently still with Zan, you shall have to stop by tomorrow during the day. Nemu could take you by his place."

I silently cursed my luck. Of course that would be the way it would go. There was little chance that I could get away during the day: Queen Akane would be busy making the lives of all the aids a living hell with her endless demands to prepare for a celebration thrown in the honor of the crown prince who had no interest in attending it. "That won't work, I'm afraid," I informed him. "I won't be able to get away. I apologize for taking up your time."

He dismissed me with a wave of his hand. "Nemu, see him out."

"Of course," she replied, leading me out of the office.

As she led me down a hallway, I stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Is there any way I can get a note to him without Mayuri seeing it?" I asked her softly.

She turned to face me. "May I ask why?"

"There are a few specifics that I wish to inform Strawberry of that I just don't think Mayuri should be privy to, considering the amount of money I'm paying him. Some things are best shared between less people." I gave her a weak smile.

Her eyes seemed to look straight through me as she stared at me for a heavy silent moment. "I will be able to pass a note to Berry-chan if you need it. He will have no problem minding any need for secrecy."

There was something about the way she said it that made me certain the boy had secrets of his own.

_Of course he has secrets of his own!_ I yelled at myself. _Why else would he go by such a ridiculous name?_

I swallowed hard, then patted my pockets. Finding a pen and a notepad, I quickly scrawled down a note, careful to make the note detailed enough to make since but not give away any of the surprise.

Handing the folded sheet of paper to the girl, I tried to smile. "Please get that to him at your earliest convenience."

She nodded once.

"Thank you."

She shrugged. "It's no problem. Everybody has secrets: Berry-chan will keep yours better than most."

I studied her for a moment longer, then swallowed hard and asked the question I'd wanted to ask her since the first night I met her. "If I asked you to leave this place, would you?"

"He's my father. He considers me an object that he owns –a piece of office furniture, like his desk. If I ever left, he would hunt me down and drag me back." Her smile was empty.

That thought brought me all the more sadness. "I'm sorry I don't have enough power to keep something like that from happening," I told her softly, touching her hand lightly.

Then I stepped out of the brothel and into the crowded street, wondering if leaving her there was _really_ the only thing I could do.

* * *

_Ichigo:_

Dawn broke slowly as I had a final cup of tea with my shissou.

Silence reigned after I had recounted my story. He was still processing my words, I knew. I couldn't blame him: my life had ultimately become the perfect plot for an opera. So instead of speaking, we sipped our tea and watched each other.

My delight in seeing my shissou once more had overshadowed the fact that he had been my very first crush –no, my first love. There had always been something about him. He'd never been afraid to push me forward or encourage me. And yet, contrarily enough, he had understood the value of silence. He'd taught me how to handle a blade and how to meditate –though I will admit, when we were meditating, I'd frequently found my attention more on him than on centering myself. It was because of him and my family that I was a good man.

The problem was that you can't earn a living being a good man –and I was no longer certain that I counted as one. My mother would have hung her head in shame to know that her son was Strawberry, a relatively famous whore whose only known talent involved his mouth. My father, had the same knowledge somehow reached him, would have wasted no time in locating the nearest sharp blade and destroying something –most likely, something attached to him and related to whatever sense had allowed the knowledge in.

"I know you don't want to hear this," Zangetsu said, not even looking up from the cup in his hand, "but your parents would cry to hear of this. Yet, strange as it all is, you've still become a good man." He offered me a soft smile. "I'm still proud to have been your shissou, Ichi."

I looked at him, blinking in astonishment.

How had he _known_? How did he know what was going through my head at that exact moment?

The answer came to me quickly: of _course_ he knew. This man knew me better than almost any other person still alive. He'd been the first one to teach me about hiding emotions: it was no stretch of the imagination that he could still recognize my defenses.

So, to repay him for saying the words I needed to hear at the moment, I decided to astound the hell out of him.

I reached out, framing his face with my hands, and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before he had a moment to even _process_ what I might be up to.

"Thank you, Shissou. Perhaps I'll see you around?" I added with a wink before I stood up and started walking.

"Where do you think you are going, boy?" he demanded when he managed to get his mouth to work right again.

"Home. I have an important evening to prepare for, after all." I shot him a smile. "I'll come see you again soon, Zangetsu. Don't forget me, okay?"

"How could I, you brat? You're the first man who ever kissed me!" he exclaimed.

I laughed out loud. "Seriously? I've wanted to do that since I was just a kid. I figured someone else had already given into the temptation. Sweet dreams," I bid him, blowing him a kiss with a wink.

"Oi! Wait a second!"

Honestly, I was pretty sure that he'd expended all the emotion he allowed himself for a year tonight. I did so love to get his goat that way. "Hm?"

"Tell the girls… Engetsu and I miss them."

I nodded, swallowing hard. He and Engetsu had practically been family. They had taken our fall harder than almost anyone else in our family –excluding one of our cousins. "I'll tell them. Thanks for everything."

He nodded.

"No. I mean it, Zangetsu. Thank you. For everything."

He bowed to me and I about fell all to pieces. "Best of luck, Ichi. Be a man I can be proud to have helped shape."

"I shall endeavor to be a man you can be proud of shaping, shissou," I returned, aware that of my formal words, but _meaning_ them.

Walking away from my shissou was the hardest thing I had done in a long time. Somehow I managed, holding my head high and pretending that there weren't tears welling up in my eyes as I strode through town and back toward my apartment. As I walked, I tried to process our last exchange. The way he'd said it… it was almost like he was releasing us from the roles that had bond us throughout our entire relationship. It was something a master told his student when he had no more to teach him. I refused to believe Zangetsu had nothing left to teach me: he was a deep, complex man that was both stronger and wiser than I was.

I shoved it out of my head as I reached my street and instead turned my attention to matters still at hand. It was likely I'd only be able to catch an hour or two of sleep before I'd have to make a return visit to Yumichika's shop for a long fitting that should end with the final product. Then, I would have to prepare the room I would be receiving in. Somewhere in there, I still needed to bathe and style my hair as Yumi had ordered.

All in all, staying up all night reuniting with my shisshou had been a bad life choice.

I had no more than closed the door to my apartment behind myself, intent on heading to my bed and catching some sleep, when rapid, impatient knocking sounded on the door.

"Berry-chan?" Nemu called. "Please be home," she murmured lowly.

Throwing the door open, I looked at my friend. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she assure me. "It's still urgent, though. The man who's sponsoring tonight… he stopped by and wanted to tell you something, but you were still at Zan's. He gave me a note for you and told me it was important that you know it before tonight." She pressed the folded paper into my hand.

I just stared.

"I better get back before Father misses me." She kissed my cheek and disappeared as quickly and mysteriously as she had appeared.

My curiosity unfortunately peaked by the sense of urgency Nemu had conveyed, I opened the note quickly. This was how it read:

_Strawberry-_

_I wish I could have given you fair warning during my last visit, but I was unsure if my gift would be accepted._

_Don't be surprised if he only wants to talk –but please, _please_ try to persuade him otherwise… that boy totally needs to get laid…_

_Anyway, he's gentle: he won't hurt you. I think you both will be intrigued by each other._

_Enjoy your night with him. Make it a night he won't forget: he really doesn't get out often._

_Let me know how it all turns out,  
Ren_

I couldn't help but smile. _Of course_ it was that silly man! He'd really taken an interest in me, and he frequently paid my fee just to spend time with me. That's not to say I'd never serviced him before: I _had_, but I got the feeling it happened in order to keep up the proper appearance while visiting a brothel with only male employees.

I couldn't help but wonder who his mysterious friend was but my yawn drug my train of thought closer to my bed and further from my job. Sleep would be necessary if I wanted to do as Renji requested and make it a night his friend wouldn't forget.

Setting my alarm clock was a chore because I was so tired. As I sprawled upon my bed, I absently pondered how to make it unforgettable for him.

* * *

_How do you like the way they receive guests? It's very old-world, but I really like it :)_

_I know: Zangetsu always calls Ichigo by his whole name. But! His full name will not be "revealed" until later. Hint: see the following night..._  
_Having Zangetsu be Ichi's shissou is very fitting, isn't it? Also note that he doesn't refer to him as "old man" her... the point is, when Ichigo knew him years earlier, he had a more similar appearance to Tensa Zangetsu (the Bleach wiki is my friend~), so it would not be appropriate to use that familiar term of endearment._

_In this chapter, you may have noticed the close relationship between Byakuya and Rukia. I wanted to do that specifically because I've _always_ been close to my elder brother... and becuase the secrets between the siblings in this story are different and smaller than in the series._

_It's also interesting to note that Byakuya is calm, but he has to work to maintain that calm. I always figured that maintaining that level of calm would be hard work..._

_I want to apologize for the horribleness of Akane (the queen) and Hajime (the king). They're plot devises and you're not supposed to like them... but they seem really harsh to me (that might be because I was writing this at 3 am again...)_  
_[PS: I _know_ that Sōjun Kuchiki is Byakuya's father in the original story... but the character I needed in the role of the self-indulgent king did not mesh with the personality of Sōjun... He may show up in the story at some point, but he won't be the villainous king...]_

_Great sadness for the Nemu in this section... It hurts my heart to hurt that sweetie-pie... I shall arrange a happy ending for her to make up for it all! So those who love my Nemu, you have that to look forward to :))_

_I'll admit it: I couldn't resist the temptation to make Zangetsu Ichi's first love... Ah, I'm such a softie . _  
_And _of course_ Ichi just plants one on him... _  
_God, I need sleep or to not allow the vampires to get me again (Translation: I gave blood)... maybe it's blood-loss, since I am down a pint now?_  
_Did you notice the subtle mention of Engetsu (Isshin's Zonpacto)? Anyone have a notion of gender for Engetsu?_  
_But still: their parting is such a tender sorrow..._

_Had to put that note in there... :P_

_I need to know: do any of you have an interest in reading the second visit to Yumichika's? I can write it -and I would enjoy it!- but I won't write it if you don't want to see it..._

_I'm gonna have to ask that you hurry on answering that last question... I wanna get to work on the next piece of this!_

_Ever at your pleasure,  
~Sins~_

4514 words - Chapter 3


	5. Chapter 4

_Hello, my doves. _

_I contemplated holding this chapter hostage to be posted after I completed a piece of art… However, since my brother just started teaching me realism last night… well, early this morning, actually… but anyway, I figured I couldn't get that done and not post this for you, because only God knows how long it would take me to be satisfied with it, and it wasn't fair to all of you :)_

_There are a few more things I wanna say before I get into this…_

_It's important to note that while my sanity has been lacking for a long time, I do listen to requests and constructive criticism. If there is a harsh place that's difficult to read, does not flow, ect. al. ANYWHERE in this story, please tell me where it is! I want this story to be the best it can be!_

_Also, if there are characters you'd like to see -maybe see more of- feel free to let me know! I'll try to bring them in, even if their rolls are modest or small. _

_In other news, I think my cat believes he's Byakuya Kuchiki... I think it might be my fault, since I do keep calling him Bya... but he comes when I call him!_

_Alright! On with the show! Enjoy the first appearance of Rangiku and the return of Yumichika and Ikkaku… Oh, and there's a new perspective I'll be working with throughout the story that shows up in this chapter!_

* * *

_Byakuya:_

Sleep abandoned me a few minutes after dawn. For some reason, my body insisted on keeping a peasant's hours. Or, perhaps they were the hours a _true_ king should keep, since he should give his nation the lion's share of his attention in the same way a hard-working farmer would tend to his field.

Quickly, I slipped from under the covers and out of my bed before shrugging into the cotton yukata I used like a dressing gown. My feet slapped softly against the cool floor as I snuck out of my room in the palace. My destination wasn't far –only a mere matter of yards lie between my bedroom and my garden.

All of the roses in my garden were in full bloom today, as though the plants sought to mark the day of my birth in their full beauties. My mother would have trimmed back the vibrant purple blooms and the crimson velvet blossoms, stating that they did not coordinate with the other colors. Then again, the Lady Queen had always cared a great deal more about aesthetics and appearances than love and hard work. Luckily, _this_ garden was entirely mine and no one could even venture into it without my invitation. So the beautiful purple roses Hisana had planted for me remained, as did the lush crimson roses I had planted to memorialize her.

I walked to the table that sat in the middle of the cobblestone garden path and sat in the chair that faced east. For as long as I could remember, I had greeted the sunrise this way. Once upon a time, I had viewed every new sunrise as a sign of hope, but life had taught me better. Now, I simply viewed the sunrise as the prelude to my day. Yes, there was beauty in the instant, but it would fade, just as everything else had, into the pointless monotony of my days and my growing feelings of helplessness.

Hisana had breathed life into me by simply not allowing me to dwell on such feelings. Unfortunately, with her now far beyond my reach, I seemed steeped in them.

Light footsteps intruded, interrupting my thoughts. Warm, slender hands came to rest on my shoulders. "Byakuya. I figured that I'd find you here."

Her voice was warm and full of affection. It made me appreciate the way my dear friend had fallen hard and fast at the mere sight of here. "Rangiku.," I greeted, unable to keep a small smile from my lips. "What are you doing up so early?"

She plunked down in the seat beside mine. "As much as I love working here –and I really _do_– my body just can't seem to adjust to the difference in the hours." She smiled sheepishly, but pressed a kiss to my cheek.

Rangiku often reminded me of Hisana, but even a man blinded by his own grief could recognize that she was a completely different woman. Still, we grieved Hisana together, and that was a kind of bond in and of itself. "How are you, Ran?" I asked softly, knowing _exactly_ what had driven her away from her previous employer.

"I'm… well, I'm okay. I miss him like hell, but it's better this way. I just have to take things as they come, y'know?"

She could say that all she wanted, but she still got that far-off look whenever he was mentioned. I wondered how she would react to the knowledge that her former lover was not only a crown prince in his own right, but also one of my dearest companions. I decided that she'd probably come to hate him if I were the one to reveal everything, but it was making me crazy that Toshiro was taking his own sweet time on the matter!

"How about you, Bya? How are you doing?" Her tone was as gentle as her hand resting over mine.

"Well, I'm another year older, if that counts for anything. Not much wiser for it." I paused, thinking. "Life has gone on and I've found a routine again, but I still sit in my garden and miss my wife."

A moment of sober silence fell between us. The mood had darkened some, and neither of us seemed to wish to speak until we could lighten the mood.

"Any special guests coming to your celebration tonight?" she asked lightly.

"Well… not unless my mother saw fit to invite the royal family from Kōsei," I replied. I had always had a rather close relationship with Toshiro and his father. I believed that it might be possible to have Toshiro and Rangiku run into each other by coincidence. It _would_ end my frustration with the situation, anyway. "Other than that, I really have no interest in the guests. You know me: I'll sneak away as soon as I can without being noticed."

She smiled softly. "Yes, that _does_ sound like you. Will you dance in the garden tonight?"

"Of course I will," I told her, smiling fondly at the fact she recalled that tradition as well. "It's my favorite birthday tradition."

"Will you save a dance for little ole me?" she asked me delicately.

"Save one?" I laughed a little. "Why not dance with me now, Ran?" I asked her, rising to my feet and holding out my hand to her.

She laughed as well. "I forgot that you could be so impulsive." Standing up, she took the offered hand.

I led her away from the table. Placing my hand on her side and holding her other hand in mine, I smiled as she placed her hand on my shoulder and then led her into an up-tempo waltz. She laughed all the way and I just couldn't suppress my smile. When she was about breathless, I drew her closer and kissed her forehead.

Her eyes closed, as though to saver the moment. "Happy birthday, my friend," she told me, her eyes still closed. "May you find joy this year."

Hoping her blessing was true, I pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Her eyes opened slowly and she smiled at me. "I suppose I should get to work."

I shook my head, not wanting our moment to be so brief. "Take as long as you want, Ran. You can tell them that I said it was fine and you won't get in any trouble."

Her hand came up to rest on my cheek. "You're so sweet, Bya. Too good to me, really." Still, she drew back, out of my arms. "But I'll be off rhythm all day if I linger." She smiled and kissed my cheek. "Have a good birthday, Byakuya."

She was gone soon after that. It left a sort of emptiness in the garden. She was a whirl-wind, that one. She was _just_ what Toshiro needed in his too-predictable life.

I checked the time and headed in to dress for the day. After all, I had a question for Mother. She would be glad to see me take an interest in the ball she was throwing in my honor, and I _did_ attempt to please her once a year.

* * *

_Ichigo:_

"You have _perfect_ timing, handsome," Yumichika announced when I arrived. "I just finished it. Let's see how it fits, shall we?"

Despite his bright manner and his excitement over turning me into a dress-up doll once more, I could see that he'd stayed up all night to prepare it. He looked so _tired_ that I was nearly certain he was about to fall asleep on his feet. Still, I did as he bade and followed him into the work room.

His creation still sat upon the work table in a delectable puddle of dark silk. My fingers flexed against my will with the need to touch it, but I restrained myself. It would be all over me soon enough.

Yumi smiled at me wearily. "Take off your clothes, you silly Berry, and we'll see how well this fits."

I disrobed quickly and efficiently standing before him in nothing but my _nagajuban._

"Remove that, too. This was designed to cling to your naked body," he interjected breezily.

It was a bit of the shock, considering the fact that I knew for certain that he was using silk. _Gods_, but he had to be charging Mayuri a pretty penny for this one! Aside from that, silk was notoriously difficult to clean –that was pretty much the reason the _nagajuban_ was a necessity– yet here Yumi was telling me that I was to wear nothing beneath it?

Yet, I decided it was best not to question genius, so I removed the garment as he told me. Once more, I stood before him entirely naked, and Yumi's eyes wondered to me. He looked me over with a soft smile, as though he was glad to see that it was all as he remembered it.

"Ikkaku! A little help, please?" he asked distractedly. His hands balled against his sides, then unfurled.

It took me a moment –and a few repetitions of the action– to realize just what it indicated. _He wants to touch me again_, I realized. I wanted to smile as I watched him struggle with restraint. It amused me, because I knew there was absolutely nothing sexual about his need to touch my body. It was the artist in him that appreciated my form more than I ever had.

Yumi took hold of his masterpiece and I realized it was a kimono in several parts. First, he wrapped me in a kimono of charcoal gray silk. It was patterned with subtle, small designs I couldn't quite recognize, but they accented it in a lighter shade of gray. The garment stopped just below my knees, making it much shorter than any formal kimono I'd ever seen.

Ikkaku suddenly appeared, carrying the second part: the obsidian-colored obi. It was much wider than the one I was used to wearing –it was around the size of the most formal obis I had seen a woman wear. The pair of them wrapped it just above my hips to hold the kimono closed. Yumi turned his attention back to the charcoal garment, shifting the soft material against my skin until the opening gaped and exposed most of my chest.

Ikkaku returned with the third piece and handed it to Yumi. It was a haori of sorts, if one had to give it a name. It was almost translucent, black in color with golden threads woven in to accent it. He slipped it up my arms carefully, and situated it until he was happy.

Both men stepped back, and Yumi began to walk around me slowly, his eyes carefully scanning his work. With a small frown, he removed the haori and stepped back once more, as though to admire his work. "It's still missing something," he muttered to himself.

Ikkaku took one look at me before returning to the work table. When he returned, he held a gold-colored cord in his hand. The cord was quickly handed to Yumi, who smiled broadly.

With careful hands, Yumi untied the wide obi and moved it a bit. Carefully, he wrapped it so that the ends were as hidden as he could manage. Then, he wrapped the golden cord around the center of the obi. Ikkaku knelt before me and tied the cord –which I realized had to be an _obijimé_– in a neat bow.

Once more, both men took a step back and circled me slowly, like two predators about to attack and share the same prey. I'll admit I was a little worried, until they both began to grin wildly.

"Perfect. _Beautiful_." Yumi pronounced.

"He looks like he could be attending the crown prince's celebration tonight," Ikkaku told Yumi with a wide grin.

Yumi took me by the hand and led me to stand in front of the full-length mirror. "You look absolutely _stunning_. This is sure to knock your client through a loop."

Looking at my refection in the mirror, I had to agree with him. It looked as though the next time I took a deep breath, the kimono would abandon my body. It was very loose and almost seductively draped across my torso. The wide obsidian silk obi only emphasized my narrow hips. Taking a hesitant step forward, I noticed the way the lower half of the garment had moved and gaped to allow for my movement.

After staring at it for a moment longer, I realized that the whole garment was a tease. Wearing such a beautiful piece of clothing made me feel as though I belonged in one of the first-class brothels. I looked at the garment a little closer. No, it made me feel as though I once more belonged in the rank I had been born into.

"It's so light and beautiful," I told Yumi, my voice filled with awe. "I feel as though I don't deserve to wear something so lovely…"

"Don't be a fool!" Yumi snapped at me.

My gaze shot to him, a little stunned.

His hands roughly spun me about. "I _designed_ this, Berry. I made this _masterpiece_ to showcase _you_ and to _seduce_." He glared at me. "You are absolutely _gorgeous_ and you are _essential_ to the beauty of this garment. You are _not_ going to put yourself down this way in front of me ever again!"

I blinked owlishly, completely blind-sided by his outburst. My mind swam, trying to figure out a way to repair part of the damage between us. "I… I hadn't thought about it like that, Yumi. I'm sorry. I am thrilled to wear the gorgeous garment that you made for me."

"That's better," he returned, looking as though he wanted to pout. "Ikkaku, help him remove it and make sure he can put it on by himself," he ordered, heading for the office. "I'm going to take something for my headache."

Ikkaku began to ease me out of the garment as soon as Yumi was out of sight. "You really made him mad, saying those things," he commented, holding all of the parts in his arms as I stood before him nude.

"I noticed," I returned as he handed me the main garment once more. "I didn't mean to upset him with how I see myself," I added, holding the garment closed as he handed me the wide obi.

He sighed. "Look, Berry, you didn't hear this from me, okay?"

I nodded, and so he continued.

"The last person Yumi designed for in the color range you're wearing was the crown prince. Yumi won't design anything in that range unless you are just this side of inhumanly beautiful." Ikkaku handed me the _obijimé_. "You hurt Yumi, but it was because someone he sees as so beautiful sees themselves that way."

"Oh…! I… I see," I said softly, feeling horrible for hurting Yumi, who had been nothing but kind to me.

Ikkaku looked me up and down, noting the way I'd dressed in the garment with a critical eye. "You did very well. Let's do it once more, just to make sure."

I undressed again, silently sending my mother thanks for forcing me to learn such a skill. As I busied myself, I tried to figure out how to improve my self-esteem so that I wouldn't hurt Yumi again.

* * *

_Kaien:_

"I'm going to the rose garden," Princess Rukia informed me coolly.

I nodded silently, but noted the pains she'd taken with her appearance today. It had surprised me when I'd first begun to work at the palace –how close the prince and princess were, I mean. Now, it took little though for me to recognize why she took more care with her appearance some days: the first reason was that she deeply loved her brother; the second reason was that she had a large crush on his personal aid.

Of course, that last part tended to burn a little. It was stupid that this woman I was to protect stirred in me the kinds of feelings I hadn't allowed myself to feel since my wife died. Yet, the feelings were absolutely undeniable. I'd accepted their existence without a fight and continued on like they _didn't_ exist, just as any professional should.

I didn't bother to stay the required distance from her as I followed her to the garden. However, I remained outside of it when she entered it. I respected the crown prince far too much to enter his rose garden without permission. She walked straight to a plant that supported several purple blooms. With a pair of sheers, she snipped two blooms and tucked it into the folds of her dress.

I had to wonder if the prince knew that she snatched these flowers from time to time. Personally, I supposed it was her way of remembering the prince's wife who had been a dear friend to Rukia.

She turned and looked at me. At first, I guess she was a little startled. She shouldn't have been: Prince Byakuya had put me in charge of her security and I took my job very seriously. Then she gave me a soft smile that all but slammed a fist into my solar plexus. "It's for tonight. Byakuya and I will dance among his roses, like he used to with Hisana. Since we keep the tradition in her memory, I want us to wear the roses she found for him."

"That's… that's incredible. I wish I'd done more to remember my wife," I remarked softly, waiting for the princess to emerge from the garden I hadn't the permission to enter.

Her eyes met mine and she froze in her tracks. "You were married, Shiba?"

"It's Kaien," I corrected her gently, "and yes, I was married to a wonderful woman who was much too good for the likes of me. She died too young, and we had no children."

The look in her eyes was surprisingly soft. "How old were you when you married her?"

"Sixteen. That's how the noble clans arrange the marriages."

"So it wasn't a love match?" she asked me.

"It was an arranged marriage, but we grew to care about each other, and I did fall in love with her. I couldn't even _look_ at another woman for at least three years after that." Her interest in my past was surprising, but I supposed she couldn't have ignored the statement I should have kept in my head, where it belonged. Besides, she was probably seeing some unavoidable parallels between my situation and her brother's.

Yet her smile still remained tender. "What was her name?"

"Miyako." I shook my head. "She was a goddess in human form: I simply did not stand a chance."

"And you haven't found anyone since?" she inquired.

"Well, there is a young woman I love. She's much younger than I am, however, and there's no way she would be interested in a man like me." I shrugged, like it didn't hurt me at all, like I wasn't talking about _her_. "But, if you're worried about the prince, it's important to remember that everyone grieves differently. He may find someone who turns his head long before I ever make the decision to remarry."

She pursed her lips and I swallowed hard. "I think I'd feel better if I'd actually seen him _look_ at anyone else. But Byakuya has only become more withdrawn since her death."

"It's normal that he's not looking, Princess. Trust me: finding someone that you fall in love with isn't anything you can plan. It completely blindsides you." I literally bit my tongue to keep myself from saying any more.

A pensive expression crossed her face.

I understood: she didn't get it. "Look at it this way, Princess: his wife was a dear friend of yours, right?" I inquired.

She nodded.

"Well, you don't go out looking for a new friend to fill the hole: you remember the pain and person, but you find someone who can be a close friend. You don't replace her, you remember her. And your friend is certainly aware they cannot _be_ her, as are you, but you're both okay with that." I sighed. "With a little bit of time and some luck, the crown prince will find someone who understands and loves him in spite of or even because of it. But we can't force it."

The princess stared at me for a silent moment. "You have good insight, Kaien," she said finally. "Thank you."

I pretended my heart didn't race when I heard her say my name.

* * *

_Ichigo:_

Ikkaku and I had talked for an hour or so, mostly about Yumi or ourselves. Our conversation had died down considerably by the time Yumi emerged from the office. He looked refreshed and almost happy, so I offered him a smile and hoped vainly to see his in return. Since there was no answering smile, I would just have to summon one the old fashioned way.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me, Yumihika." I bowed respectfully.

His half-smile was still bright. "Thank you for being such a joy to work with."

Perhaps he had forgiven me a little? I decided to test the waters a little. "So, I should probably put on the clothes that I came in so I don't get mobbed in the street, ne?"

Ikkaku vanished from the room like a shadow when the world was immersed in darkness.

Yumi's gaze was drawn to me as I began to shed the sumptuous clothing. I pretended I wasn't aware of it, keeping my eyes downcast but echoing the same motion he'd found particularly sensual the day before to shrug out of the garment. Of course, in contrast, I caught this one before it hit the ground, since I'd always believed that silk should never touch the floor or drag the ground.

I looked up at Yumi innocently, as though I hadn't been testing his restraint in some way or another. Upon noticing the same clenching and unclenching motion from before, I couldn't help but smile at him. "Yumi, you can touch me again if you like. I don't mind it," I told him gently.

As if some sort of binding spell had been release, he was immediately next to me. His smooth warm hands slid over my skin in and impressive imitation of the silk garment I had just shed. When he fondly stroked the curve of my spine, I involuntarily corrected my posture. His motions gradually slowed, as though he was cherishing his opportunity to touch me and trying to commit my form to memory.

When I no longer felt his hands on me but knew he still stood behind me, I turned my head to see what had distracted him so. He reached forward and traced an old scar that was on my right side and usually hidden beneath my arm.

"That's from learning to fight with a sword. The man who was teaching me managed to graze me the first day, but he felt horrible about it," I informed him.

"What about these?" he asked, his fingers tracing three puckered lines across my back.

"Mayuri didn't always hold my leash. One of the brothel owners that previously employed me liked to discipline his employees with a whip." I shrugged. "They will fade in time."

His fingers found a gouged scar by my spine. "What happened here?"

"My uncle hated my mother, and he was angry at my father about the marriage even after she had died. He came at my father with a knife from behind, and I stepped between them, because there wasn't enough time to warn Father." I shrugged. "It's a great deal of ancient family drama."

Well, it had been a lot more than that, but Yumi really didn't need to know all of the specifics.

Yumi was very quiet when he helped me dress again, probably thinking about what the scars and their stories had told him about _me_.

He touched the rough cotton of my original outfit. "Ew, Berry! You need better every-day clothes!"

I laughed. "I'm broke or I would let you turn me into a brand new man, Yumi. You create the most beautiful things I've seen in my life."

He blushed and muttered something under his breath before slipping behind the counter and retrieving a package, which he handed to me. "Here," he said abruptly. "It's a gift. Wear them well."

I waited until he came around the counter to throw my arms around him. He seemed a bit stunned, but his arms slowly wrapped around me, as well.

"Thank you, Yumichika. I've enjoyed being your dress-up doll. You made me feel precious, like a work of art," I murmured.

"It's not every day a god walks among men. You should be attired as one," he replied almost gruffly.

"It's still the kindest thing anyone has done for me in a long time," I told him warmly.

He released me and drew about an arms distance away, his hands resting on my shoulders. "Then, be kind to me and return. I enjoy making clothes for you."

I swallowed hard and nodded.

"Oh, and bring Nemu with you. I think Ikkaku has a crush on her," Yumi quipped.

I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

* * *

_So, I hope this update brought in a few more interesting aspects..._

_Oh, and I apologize for the random Japanese in there... the words are names of different parts of a kimono... the obi is the belt, the obijime is the cord around the middle of an obi that holds it in place (usually seen on kimonos worn by women), and the nagajuban is the undergarment worn under the silk kimono to protect it from gathering body oils -but you'll see that Ichi will not be wearing one under the garment Yumichika designed..._

_The next one should include some lovely details about the ball, the brothel, and Ichi meeting his guest... _

_How quickly the next chapter gets posted depends on my muses... and, I have another story that needs to see another chapter before this one does, so I apologize in advance for any delays..._

_Let me know if you liked seeing Rangiku make an appearance, or the Yumichika getting mad at Ichi, or Ikkaku spilling a few secrets, or even Yumichika's gift to Ichi... There's a lot here, actually :) But please review if you have the time: the reviews make me happy and keep me going!_

_Ever at your pleasure,  
~Sins~_

_PS: To my guest reviewer ATP, the answer to your review from the last chapter:_

I'm glad seeing that chapter made your day -hope this one and the reply to your review will do the same!

You're right, Ichi is gonna be really startled to learn who his client is, and that will be all the more fun to write!

I wanna know why you think making Zangetsu Ichi's first love is sad, though...

I'd love to hear more from you!

_PSS: Thank you so much to Benidate86 for pointing out some of my little mistakes and for reading this :)_

4213 words - Chapter 4


	6. Chapter 5

_Hello, my lovely doves! It's nice to see so many of you really keep up with this piece :)_

_I watched the second half of the Bount arc a while ago... and let me tell you, I was in Ichigo/Byakuya fangirl heaven for a few episodes there! Of course, I kinda want to pull some of those characters in here now... but I'll try to resist, since I know not everyone loves that arc like I do...  
_

_I've done a little backward editing, because my perspective on some of these things have changed a little... If you feel like it, feel free to go back and flip through the earlier chapters and see if you can spot the revisions :P_

_Also, I realize I promised the first meeting would be in this section. Unfortunately, my muses pushed me away from that notion, so I'm afraid that will have to wait for the next chapter! I hope it will be worth the wait!_

_One more thing: I added one more perspective in this chapter. I hope you enjoy seeing some things from her point of view :)_

_So! Onward to chapter five (part six)! I hope you enjoy~_

* * *

_Byakuya:_

My fingertips rubbed at my temples. Honestly, was Mother _really_ asking me what color I wanted? She'd only do what she wanted anyway, after chastising me for my choice.

"Byakuya!" she exclaimed. "Pay attention!"

"Hm? Oh. I was just wondering about what I should wear tonight," I returned, as though I were as vapid as she wished I were.

She shrugged. "You have a closet full of beautiful things. I trust you to make an appropriate selection."

I nodded slowly. "What was your question, Mother?"

"Never mind," she said, waving me away. "I'll make the decision myself. You should go decided what to wear tonight."

It was a clear dismissal –one I was _incredibly_ thankful for, in all truth. She always got this way when planning an event. Of course, it wouldn't be this way if she didn't wait until the day of the event to plan anything, but trying to tell her that would only bring a screaming match I didn't want to get into.

So instead, I disappeared into my rooms and closed the door behind me. The closet was a short distance away. When I opened the doors, the scent of cherry blossoms wafted from the clothes. Choosing clothes for an evening sounds simple, until you take into account the fact that I have several hundred garments simply hanging in the closet. Thusly, it could become a massive pain in the ass.

With a sigh, I started at the left side. Every garment was exquisite in its own way, but they all seemed to come from a monochrome color scheme –well, aside from the odd piece in purple here and there. The bright color was left over from the brighter time in my life, and I ignored them as I sought out the 'perfect' outfit: something my mother wouldn't feel disgraced that I came to the celebration in, something I could move in, and, most of all, something I could sneak out of the place in.

_This is probably the first time I've ever tried to select an outfit based on covert escapes,_ I thought wryly.

Finally, I selected a loose black silk kimono. I slid my hand across its delicate surface and tried to remember where the garment had come from. As I moved to extract it from the closet, my arm slid across the silk.

Considering the material and the strange cut –it would hang three inches below my knees and no further– I figured _that man_ might have had a hand in designing it. He was the only designer I went to see, the only designer who laid his hands on my flesh, the only designer who _ever_ designed clothes in silk to lay against the naked flesh of the wearer. If I'd really had a choice, Ayasegawa Yumichika would design all of my clothes, but the Queen detested him because he would only design for men. Luckily, I'd managed to have Yumichika come to the palace to measure me, so I still had some of his gorgeous creations.

I caressed the silken garment once more before pulling out the rest of the ensemble: the dove-gray silk obi and the dusky lavender haori that added a touch of covert color. Mother would fume because I 'outshone' her tonight, but it made little difference to me. I wore clothes I liked because I liked them, and Yumichika's work had long been my favorite.

I wondered if I'd be forced to put in those porcelain hair monstrosities. If I had a choice, I'd stick to the purple-tipped hair sticks Hisana had left behind. Yet, I doubted I'd get a choice: apparently they were a sign of my rank. I would probably like them better if the damn things weren't so fragile and didn't cost more that it would take to repair all of the roads in Kakoku.

I sighed heavily. I was _not_ looking forward to the celebration tonight, but I _was_ looking forward to being in the city again.

I hoped Renji had a good escape plan lined up for the pair of us, because we were going to need it.

* * *

_Ichigo:_

"Can't you do _anything_ right, you stupid boy?" Mayuri bellowed when I spilled the tea.

I gritted my teeth. If he wasn't yelling all the time, I could do a hell of a lot better!

_You can do this,_ I told myself. _You were a pro at this before you were ten._

I took a deep, cleansing breath and started again.

"Much better," he muttered. That was the closest thing I would get to praise from him. "Don't disappoint your client tonight. I don't care what your client asks: you give it." His golden eyes lingered on me with harshness and anger. "No more of your working around what you're comfortable offering. If this client wants you to have a sex-change operation, you're going to do it."

And like smoke, he disappeared.

"I wish he'd disappear forever," I muttered.

The door opened and shut quietly.

"Hey, what time is that appointment, anyway?" I asked, figuring it was Nemu, sent in to deal with the errant, disobedient one. It was Mayuri's _modus operandi_, mostly because I tended to listen to Nemu better in the first place.

"It's eight o'clock…ish. Depends on when we get here, Strawberry," drawled a familiar voice.

I spun. "Renji! I thought you told Nemu you couldn't get back here before it."

"I had an unexpected lull in my time," he told me.

Drat if the man didn't look wonderful in his disheveled clothing! His crimson hair was down and framing his face, and his tattoos stood out starkly against his skin. He looked as good as he always did.

I smiled at him and hurried to him to hug him briefly.

"So," I said, drawing away. "What did you want to tell me that you couldn't put in the note?"

He swallowed hard. "Well, he's a virgin –completely chaste– so be gentle with him. And he is of a really high rank. Unfortunately, that goes hand in hand with him being highly recognizable. Is there a back way I can sneak him in?"

"There's a back door. I'll have Nemu wait there, starting at eight. She'll bring you to me." I smiled at him tentatively, still quite a bit nervous about things.

"Is this the room for tonight?"

"No, this is just my room to practice in. They don't want me to embarrass this _genteel establishment_ with my client tonight. In fact, I've been told I _cannot_ say no to him." I eyed Renji wryly. "I think you should warn _him_ about that."

He looked as though he wanted to laugh at that. "Oh, I don't think he'll push you into things you don't want to do… but he is very persuasive, so be on your guard."

"Duly noted. So, can I ask who this guy is?"

Laughter danced in his russet eyes. "Nope. That would ruin the surprise, Berry. "

"Will you be here, or will it just be the new client?" I asked, figuring I could try to wheedle it out of him later.

"Just him. I'll drop him off and leave you to your own… _pleasures_." He looked at his watch. "Fuck. I've gotta run."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead as though I were a small child, then vanished as quickly as he had arrived.

_I've _got_ to find out how he does that!_

I check my own watch as well and was stunned to see the time. _Five o'clock _already_? I need to start preparing!_

Slipping out of the room, I quickly found Nemu and told her that I needed her at the back door by eight. Then I hurried to bathe and make myself presentable for a night and a mood I wanted to create for Renji's friend.

_I've got to be unforgettable,_ I mused.

* * *

_Byakuya:_

Where in the devil was Renji? The celebration was about to begin, and I knew that we would have little time to speak during it. There were still several details of our plan that we needed to iron out.

As if on cue, my aid carefully slipped into the room, closing the door behind him quietly. "Your Highness," he greeted, bowing deeply.

He'd changed into a nicer garment to be ready to accompany me –not that he would be doing much of that until later. Now he wore a soft-looking robe of midnight-blue, which contrasted with his hair but looked nice on him.

"Renji," I greeted curtly, wanting to make the most of the time I had before I enter that torture chamber my mother liked to call the ballroom.

He rose quickly. "We need to leave the celebration by 7:30," he informed me, careful to keep his words soft so as to not allow our conversation to be overheard. "It will take some time to get there, but I think it will be worth it. I've already taken care of our… absence from the party. Kaien Shiba will 'overlook' our passage and help sneak you back in when needed: he's posted at the gate until mid-morning."

I raised a brow. "You have set no duration for that?"

"That will depend on how much time you wish to spend with your present," he told me, russet eyes taking on a darker cast.

_Why do I get the feeling he procured companionship for me?_ I wondered.

I wanted to scoff at my own thought. Renji _would_ do such a thing, and happily so if he thought it would be received well –which meant that if he had procured such a thing, he'd carefully selected my _present_ to make sure I would be pleased enough that I wouldn't take up my own sword and run him through. He always _had_ been a bit worried about my lack of genuine, close friends.

"Don't scowl, Byakuya," he scolded, sounding more like a mother than my own ever had. "Princess Rukia awaits her annual dance in the rose garden, and you know how much it means to her."

I nodded slowly. "Yes, Oka-san," I teased dryly. "I'll be on my best behavior."

He gave me a dark look, then gently pushed me toward the door. "Go. At most, you must endure an hour and a half of this and you _know_ it will take that long to announce all the foreign dignitaries present."

I couldn't help but smile. "Where should we meet upon my escape?"

"The garden. Now go." He pushed me a little. "Make your little sister happy, okay?"

That was the last push he gave before disappearing of his own accord –probably to do something else to prepare for our grand exit.

Yet I chose to remain in the room, thinking. Who was this person Renji was so determined I meet? Perhaps someone a bit older and a lot wiser? Someone who might empathize with me? Someone who might understand my perspectives better, perhaps? It just seemed odd to me that Renji, who was so set on me meeting this person, hadn't brought me to see them –or them to see me– earlier. It was a bit suspicious of him. Yet, I couldn't dwell on that fact for some reason. The only thing that stuck in my mind was that he was so _certain_ I would enjoy this person's company.

"I see Renji was right again."

I turned to see Rukia standing in the doorway. My sister did look so lovely in her purple dress, but what really caught my eye was the rose pinned to the silky material. A smile pulled at my lips. "Hisana's rose," I murmured, before taking a breath and speaking to my sister. "Rukia. You look lovely this evening."

She smiled, gathering the material of the flowing dress in her hands before giving a curtsy. "Thank you, Byakuya. You look wonderful, as well."

I was suddenly glad I'd decided to forgo the haori tonight. Mother would be displeased if it appeared that I'd dressed to match my sister –God only knew _why_ she would, but it was a confrontation I was glad to avoid.

Rukia approached me and pinned a matching bloom over my chest, as well. With a soft smile, she took my arm. "Are you ready to make our entrance, Onii-sama?" she inquired softly.

I was floored at the matching rose pinned to my own garment. Somehow, my younger sister could bring Hisana back into this tradition in the most subtle ways. "Of course," I told her. "It will be my favorite part of the celebration."

With Rukia on my arm, I was more confident walking through the doors and into the ballroom. The voices that had been loud and boisterous died down to a soft murmur as we entered. The stares were normal: some reverent, some awed.

When we reached the center of the room, Mother approached us with Father. She kissed our cheeks, but only to show what a "loving" parent she was. "To start our evening, my two beautiful children will dance in my son's garden," she practically cooed, even though I knew for a fact that she _hated_ that Rukia had an invitation to my garden when she did not. The matching roses were a good way to stir her ire, as well, but she still wore her fake public smile.

Still, I smiled at my younger sister and drew her toward the French doors. Kaien Shiba, my sister's guard, opened the doors for us and I gave him a small nod.

When Rukia tripped over the cobblestone path, I caught her easily. "Are you alright, Rukia?" I asked her softly.

She nodded, a blush rising to her cheeks for her fumble.

"Relax," I told her softly. "It just makes you seem more human to them."

"You say that, Onii-sama, but _you_ would never have tripped."

I laughed lightly. "Yes, but I'm not wearing those shoes, now am I?"

All eyes were on us as we continued down the path, Rukia now taking more careful steps to avoid a similar mishap. When we reached the center of the garden, the musicians began to play something soft and light. I reached for her hand and placed it on my shoulder before placing my own hand on her side. She reached for my other hand herself. In the back of my mind, I noted that I did hold her much closer than I had held Rangiku this morning, but I pushed those thoughts away.

Our pace began much slower and remained so, since I was very aware of Rukia's discomfort in her shoes. This waltz was not just for fun: it was a tradition kept in memory of someone we had both lost. The reverence seemed to remain in the pace as I looked at my younger sister with a soft smile on my face.

Though I knew the song had gone on for around ten minutes, it still ended too soon for me. Rukia moved her arms to wrap them around me and I reciprocated the embrace. "Happy Birthday, Byakuya. May you find peace and hope this year," she whispered, her voice so soft that no one else could hear.

I pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you, Rukia," I returned quietly.

I knew Mother would be angry about the little peck on the cheek, but for once, I didn't care. This was my birthday –my night! I had a right to do as I pleased just this once!

We released each other as the attendees began to applaud. I held Rukia's hand as we bowed to them before returning to the ballroom.

_One hour. One hour in this hell before I get to escape,_ I promised myself.

Surely, I could make it one hour.

* * *

_Rukia:_

Mother would be _seething_ if she noticed Byakuya's hair. He _did_ have the _kenseikan_ in his hair, as she had ordered. It wasn't that he'd disobeyed her: it was that he'd added his own touch. He'd wound the top portion of his straight, long black hair into a bun and secured it with a single hair stick –one of the hair sticks he had bought for Hisana while she was still alive.

Hisana had adored them, though it had seemed that she preferred to place them in Byakuya's hair instead of her own at times. I remembered watching the two of them play when Hisana had worn them. She would remove them from her own hair and stick them in his, and he would chase her down and do the same. It would continue, back and forth, until each of them ended up with a single hair stick in their hair. I had always thought it was the cutest display of affection imaginable.

"Princess, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't it usually customary to wear _both_ hair sticks?" my guard asked softly from behind me.

I turned to look at him, a little startled. "It's because Hisana is wearing the other one," I blurted.

He raised a brow.

"They used to play a game with the hair sticks," I tried to explain. "Byakuya would always end up with one of them in his hair while she wore the other."

His expression turned softer. "Oh, I see. Hisana is wearing the other one," he repeated.

"Did you ever do something like that with your wife?" I asked him, curious.

He smiled at me, but it seemed distant. "Miyako and I would leave each other poems. Sonnets, love poems, that kind of thing. I'd copy one of the old ones –like Shakespeare– and write them out long-hand, and she would respond with a new love poem she composed. In the end, she had me writing my own for her to respond to. We'd leave them in the weirdest places: the bathroom, one of the pans on the stove, a favorite tea cup… It was always a surprise to find the next one."

It seemed so sweet, so pure. I could hear how much he missed her in his voice. "Do you miss those silly little games?"

"Every time I find one of the notes she left behind. Miyako knew when her time was getting short, so she took it upon herself to hide close to a hundred of them around the house. I keep finding a new own every other week –sometimes every week." He shook his head with an almost rueful smile on his lips.

"What do you do when you find them?"

"I cry like a child, usually." His voice was raw with his honesty. "Then I write her a reply and place it in the box where I kept all of her silly little poems."

I abruptly stepped into one of the empty side rooms, and Shiba –_Kaien_, I corrected myself– quickly followed me.

He looked at me, the question in his eyes.

"I'm sorry for just… asking that," I told him softly. "I know that losing someone like that is very painful, and I don't mean to make light of your pain with my idle curiosity."

He shook his head. "I wouldn't have told you if I didn't want to."

"I still feel cruel for doing that to you. I apologize."

"Will you continue to apologize, even when I tell you there is no need, Princess?" he asked me, his tone wry.

"Until you accept my apology, yes. Even if you say there is no need, I feel there is, so please accept my apology, Kaien." I gave him a small smile. "My elder brother is not the only stubborn Kuchiki."

"You are absolved and forgiven, Princess." He smiled at me slightly, a different sort of smile than I'd seen from him before. I couldn't quite place it: it seemed somewhere between 'sad' and 'pained'. "Besides, I need to talk to _someone_ about her or I will soon be the only one who recalls her."

"I would be honored to share the memory of your wife," I told him. And I _meant_ it: such a pure, sweet love and all of it torn away far too soon. My heart ached for his pain.

Yet, I knew in my heart that I would gladly suffer through the same pain as Kaien and Byakuya if it meant I got to have the same good years, the same sweet games, the same rock-solid soul-devouring _love_ that they got to taste for such a short time.

* * *

_I hope that throwing in Rukia's perspective didn't throw any of you off... I thought I'd show the cute playful side of the couple from an outside observer... and develop the Kaien/Rukia pairing a bit :P  
_

_So, Byakuya is a little on the innocent side... I think it adds an interesting flavor to the story, but I will admit it's a little out of character for the Byakuya we all know and love. I hope that is just adds another interesting aspect instead of detracting from the story._

_So the next chapter will feature the great escape, the first meeting, and_ possibly_ something citrus-y... I will leave that up to the reviewers to decide as I get to work on the rest of the chapter, okay?_

_If it's not clear, I want your reviews this time to include whether or not you want "something" to happen between these two upon their first meeting. Feel free to be specific in what you would/would not like to see here, but be aware my muses will have the final say :P_

_Ever at your pleasure,  
~Sins~_

_PS: In response to the review from ATP:_

Greetings to my little doveling~

I'm glad to see that my new chapters continue to make you happy. I also love getting reviews from you, because you reviews always make me happy :)

Oh, I hope I can live up to the appropriate level of shock and comedy required for such a scene...  
I know the unrequited love is tragic... but I always end up with a little in a story somewhere... I have tons of experience, you see...

Yumi always does make me smile, and Ikkaku is one of those tough-but-soft-and-squishy-on-the-inside guys. And they are incredible people. I promise that they will continue to appear in the story :) I know that Kaien kinda sneaks in... I hope it was a nice touch?  
Rangiku's and Toshiro's story will be completed in another story connected to this universe (mostly because some people won't read gay, and I want to respect that...) but they will both pop in and out... some while they are sad and some after they finally get their shit together :P

Sorry to leave you hanging... I fear I do that too much, but I try to make up for it by updating relatively quickly :)

3399 words - Chapter 5


	7. Interlude: The Waking Dreams

_Hello, my doves._

_I know you're all going to hate me for this, _especially_ since I've been promising their first meeting in this chapter. Unfortunately, I encountered that great brick wall best known as writer's block. So, sad to say, that is _not_ what this chapter contains._

_What this chapter contains instead will give you more insight into the mind/changes in one Prince of Nigotta, Kuchiki Byakuya. It's short, and does not impact the chapter before it, but it will impact the chapter that follows it, though it is non-canonically stuffed in the middle. This chapter is the first of several interlude chapters that will be randomly placed in this story to increase your understanding of characters, the relation to the actual story I so tenderly borrowed the characters from, and to help me have a little more time to crank out a few of those higher-stress chapters…_

_I know: it's filler. And most of you probably didn't enjoy many of the filler arcs in the anime –I did. But this will impact the rest of the story, so I recommend you_ read_ the filler chapter, my doves._

_So this is the first Interlude:_

_Interlude ~ The Waking Dreams_

* * *

_Byakuya:_

Sometimes when I dream, I dream of battles fierce, of a strange spirit world known as the _Sereitei_, of blades called _zanpakutō_ that wield magic and have names and personalities.

Whenever I _do_ dream of such things, there's always a man –a boy, really– who's almost more important to the dreams than I am. He's beautiful, with strawberry-blond hair and whiskey eyes. More beautiful still is his absolute, unwavering loyalty and his fierce desire to protect everything he holds dear.

It's strange, really. In the dreams, I've existed for centuries. I'm a _shinigami_ of massive power, a _taichō_ who commands an entire division of other _shinigami_. I'm respected and feared, and I do many great things. Yet I rarely dream of the years before he arrived. It was like the rest of my life –or un-life, as the case may be– simply became unimportant when that hellion arrived on the scene.

The first time I met him in those dreams, the dream-me _hated_ him. He'd committed an irrevocable act that condemned my sister to death and forced me to choose between honoring one vow or another. Never mind that the boy never abused the power he received, never mind that he had just wanted to protect his family, never mind that my sister would have died anyway if he hadn't done this and protected her, as well. I _hated_ that boy for forcing me to choose between honor and family –probably because like an idiot, I chose honor over all.

I cut the boy down swiftly and decisively, destroying his _zanpakutō,_ not caring that he was only 16 years old –a mere _child_ who had only wanted to protect people. I destroyed the power he'd stolen –partially in the hope that it would restore my sister and partially because I was a vengeful bastard. In all honesty, that boy should have died alone in a puddle of his own blood out in the open, empty street.

The next time I met him, that boy that I had let with nothing had built up the power to demolish a powerful _taichō_ and my own _fukataichō_. He was bruised, bloody, barely standing, and in a world he simply did not belong in. Yet he was positively _fierce_ as he challenged me, holding a hilt-less blade much like an oversize kyber knife that was as long as he was tall. The _zanpakutō_ I had so decisively destroyed was a manifestation of the swift and magnificent amount of power he held, and I swear it was larger than it had been the first time I'd faced him. He was no longer using barrowed _shinigami _powers like before –this was power all his own, a level of intensity that would have brought most of the lower-level _shinigami_ to their knees.

In the dream, I was torn in that instant. I loved him and I hated him. I loved him, because in his own way, he protected my family and the vow I'd made long ago. I hated him, because he was protecting the vow I'd chosen to neglect in honor of upholding the other. The boy so driven by his need to protect the woman who'd allowed him to protect his family, so torn and battle weary he could hardly stand, had to be forcibly removed from my sight by one of his own allies, or he would have given his own life just to try to prove me wrong.

The next time I met him, this boy whom I had so decisively ruined with little more than a single slash of my blade, this boy who had returned so much stronger for the single-minded purpose of protecting my sister, this boy who had to be removed to protect his own life had his turn to bring me to my knees. He overwhelmed me, he more than matched my speed, and he determinedly achieved things I'd never thought possible for him. More than that, he showed me that my way, my beliefs, were not always right. He chose to fight a system that I had decided to uphold in the faintest of hopes that he might see my sister's life spared. And with single minded determination, he made it happen –even to the point of defeating me, a man he had been so helplessly outmatched by the first time we met.

I kept meeting him over and over and over again in the dreams, but those first three encounters truly prophesied our relationship's path as a whole. Such an incredibly strong child, always willing to risk it all for anything or anyone he thought worthy of his protection. A generous, giving child who never thought of his own comforts, only of the coming wars and promises and people he must at all costs protect. On the other side, there was me: a strong, reserved noble who put honor before people, discipline and order before relationships, and experience before youthful arrogance. A man cowed by the force of nature that the child was. A man damned to love that child since he had to be forcibly removed from before my eyes, before my _blade_, so that he actually stood some chance of reaching his goals.

He was a fascinating creature: a phoenix that always emerged from his ashes scarred, yet more powerful than ever before. A hot-headed boy who became the only hope of a nation too afraid of him to really care for him. A boy who became a hero not for want of fame or need to prove something but to protect people who could not or would not protect themselves. A boy who persisted in destroying himself for the sake of others.

A boy with so much more courage than Kuchiki Byakuya-taichō, who dared not confess his love to a boy a mere fraction of his age, a _human_ child who had saved the world.

Dreams like those were ever a torment, for no matter how I strained, I could not hear the boy's name. No matter how many time I convinced myself that the boy might feel for me, as well, I could never confess my own love.

Perhaps the dreams were divine retribution for taking a wife who honestly meant the world to me, but whom I could never love in that way. Hisana had often woken me from these dreams, and I felt ever guilty that in those dreams, I loved that boy more than my life, but I could not love my wife in such a manner.

Still, one thing I knew what that people from my life, people I _knew_, were in those dreams. Renji, my prized aid, was my _fukataichō_. Toshiro, my friend and equal, was a _taichō_ in his own right and the woman he loved, Rangiku, was his _fukataichō_. Yorurichi, a childhood friend and the now-missing daughter of a neighboring nation, was a noble like myself who had helped to train me. Even the men who made the Red Light District into their battle grounds were a _taichō_ and an exiled _taichō_ in my dreams.

So I knew that if I ever found that boy in this life, in the midst of everything, I _would_ bring him to myself and keep him close, as I should have in my dreams. I _would_ protect him at all costs.

After all, you can only repeat the same mistakes so many times before you learn from them, even in a dream world.

* * *

_So now you know the prince's dreams…_

_How do you think they'll impact the future? After all, an 18-year old prince is practically a reagent in his own right :P_

_Leave a review and let me know :)_

_Ever at your pleasure,  
~Sins~_

* * *

_Oh! I forgot!_

_I've got a little plea for help to issue..._

_I've got a small problem that I'd like some help with... I've dreamed-up another plot idea for an AU Bleach fic -I very specifically want to do Bleach with this notion of mine. Unfortunately for me, I only know half of the pairing I would like to use: I want this to feature Ichigo, primarily. However, it is necessary to have someone play the part of his older, narcissistic partner._

_So far, I've come up with four possible pairings. Please tell me which sounds most appealing -or feel free to suggest another partner entirely! Another important fact to remember is that this set (there will be three parts) will have a very floral theme to them. _

_The four pairings I came up with are:  
-Ichigo Kuroaki / Byakuya Kuchiki  
-Ichigo Kuroaki / Shunsuí Kyouraku _(I know: Really OOC for Kyouraku-taichō as I perceive him.)  
_-Ichigo Kuroaki / Kisuke Urahara  
-Ichigo Kuroaki / Zangetsu_

_Please, please help!_

_Ever at your pleasure,  
~Sins~_

1244 words - Interlude


	8. Chapter 6

_Hello, my doves~_

_This is truly the way you know you've been caught up in my editing process . For reasons I won't divulge, I downloaded and deleted each chapter, only to re-up later._

_Unfortunately, I missed this one ._

_So, here it is!_

_Enjoy the show~_

* * *

_Ichigo:_

I had lathered and scrubbed every inch of myself. My skin had a pleasant pink tinge and I smelled like the fruit I went by instead of a name. After toweling off, I wrapped myself in one of the soft cotton yukatas that Yumi had given me. It was aqua in color and softer than anything I'd worn in a long time. It felt sort of like a warm embrace, so I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms tightly around my torso for a moment and inhaled the damp air and the sweet strawberry scent.

As a child, I had inexplicably hated the fruit. I refused to try them at all, apparently off-put by their appearance. My mother, however, had always loved them and she always smelled like them. Somehow, she'd conned me into trying them while unaware, and thus the love had transferred generations.

It was an odd way to keep her close, naming myself after her favorite fruit and drenching myself in their scent –perhaps especially because she would have wept like a child if she saw the way I was living. But in moments like this, it was all worth it, because I could pretend my mother was embracing me again for just one moment.

When I opened my eyes, my gaze rested heavily on the small bottle that was nestled in my clothes. It had been Mayuri's idea of a joke –I _think_. That man was always a challenge to read in the best of circumstances. The small bottle of lube –strawberry scented, of course– seemed to stare back at me like some sort of death sentence.

My specialty was blowjobs, honestly, and it always had been. I got away with it because I was very good at it: efficient, careful, and skilled. I had no trouble admitting it: I was a one trick pony. Yet Mayuri had made it clear that if my client tonight wanted to fuck me, he got to. While Mayuri would joke about it –I _thought_ he was joking, at least– and at times rant about my "anal virginity", I doubted he realized that it was a fact.

I'd never let any man take me, and I never intended to let anyone have me that way for the sake of something as cold as _money_. Some part of me still clung to the romantic ideal of giving such a thing to a man I loved. It was really stupid, yet I clung to the notion like a child to his mother's leg. But hell, I _was_ a whore. I was surprised that I'd made it this long without losing it to _someone_, especially since many of the men I had worked with had expressed their own interest in me. And some of them were far from _subtle_ about wanting me.

Sighing heavily, I tucked the stupid bottle into the pocket of my yukata and scooped my clothes up into my arms. I still had too many other preparations to make to dwell on the matter.

I exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam. Yet that wasn't enough of a camouflage to hide me from what seemed like the entire host of men I worked with who were waiting outside the door.

One man in particular stepped forward. "Berry-chan, good luck tonight," Shuei bade me, slapping my shoulder lightly.

I tried to smile at him. "Thanks, Shu."

He frowned at me, about to ask a question about it, but the others clamored in with their own well-wishes, petting and stroking my sides, my arms, my shoulders. Shuei got crowded out by the others, something that I was never thankful on a normal evening. Tonight, however, it was a _godsend_.

I played nice for a few moments before fleeing to the room I was allowed for preparations. When the door closed behind me, I sank down the wall beside it, my clothing falling from my trembling hands to heap before me. I set my face in those trembling hands.

Mother of _God_, how could all these men wish me well? Didn't they understand the fear dancing in my stomach? Didn't they understand that I was terrified of failing or displeasing my client –or, even worse, revealing myself to him?

The door opened and closed, but I didn't bother to look up. I knew who it was, even before he knelt before me and grasped my trembling hands in his own.

"Hey, Berry-chan," he greeted softly, his warm thumbs sliding over the backs of my hands in a soothing motion.

"Hey, Shuei," I returned softly, not even looking up into that familiar face. I knew he was worried about me. I didn't need to see it in his dark eyes.

"What's eating you, kid?"

Silently, I withdrew one of my hands and slid it into my pocket. I handed him the bottle.

He released a low whistle. "Damn."

Shuei was one of the few that _knew_ the truth about the whole mess. Well, at least the half of it that a small bottle of lube would bring up. "Yeah," I replied softly.

I heard the bottle _thump_ against the floor before I felt his hand under my chin, lifting my face so that my gaze met his. "It's not so bad, kiddo. I promise you: it's not."

"Yeah, but I'm a present to a _virgin_, Shu." I met his gaze for a moment before allowing it to trace the lines of his tattoo.

He sighed softly. "Well, at least he won't notice a lack of experience," he informed me good-naturedly.

I couldn't help but chuckle. He _did_ have a point. Then again, a lack of experience meeting lack of experience _might_ just be a painful incident for all involved.

"Ah, there's that Berry-chan I know," he replied with a smile. His face turned serious again for a moment. "Do you want help to… y'know, _prepare_?"

I sucked in a harsh breath, rolling the offer over in my thoughts as though it were a round marble, wondering if he somehow managed to read my mind. Finally, I exhaled. "Talk me through it?"

He ruffled my wet hair. "Alright, kid."

* * *

_Byakuya:_

Absently, I wondered if I had _ever_ enjoyed these elaborate functions that my mother seemed to have a love/hate relationship with.

As a child, I had been fascinated by the way my mother would swear and bark orders all day, only to come back later in the evening to play the gracious hostess when the guests arrived. I remembered enjoying the dancing, once upon a time –before I hit puberty and had women literally _fighting_ over a chance to dance with me. Yet despite my simple enjoyment and fascinations, something had always rung back to me emptily when my parents threw these _massive_ parties. They always seemed so _fake_ –mostly because my parents were both experts at fake.

Now, there was little in these parties that gave me pleasure. The only people I danced with were my sister and my mother, and believe me when I say the experiences were heaven and hell, respectively. I only danced with Rukia as frequently as Mother would allow –usually only about twice– and that was about where the enjoyable parts of these functions ended. The food was abundant and delicious. The expensive champagne flowed like a waterfall. Hundreds of people milled about in the great hall of the palace, many of them beautiful females who wanted nothing more than to marry a handsome prince. Yet none of these things moved me.

I was lucky when I found myself alone. No one dared to approach me if I separated myself from the crowds. It seemed I was incredibly intimidating when I was silent and solitary. When people were around me, talking to me, I could be pleasant and cordial –warm, even. Something about the way I presented myself in a group drew people to me like flies. Yet I preferred solitude, and when I secluded myself, no one approached which was more than fine by me –especially during these parties where everyone wore their smiling masks to hide their true intentions.

Lounging casually against a wall, I watched the face of the grandfather clock, restlessly counting down the time until I could leave this place. I wanted out of here _now_ and desperately so, but there were still thirty minutes left before I could take my leave and escape with my aid.

With an utterly disinterested sigh, I surveyed my surroundings almost automatically. When I noticed that my Lady-Mother, Queen Akane, was approaching me with a broad smile on her face, I pushed down my fight-or-flight response and kept a bland expression. I'd know this would happen at least once this evening. Thankfully, my mother was alone, so that meant I wouldn't have to play nice with anyone but her. Still, that was a feat all its own.

"Byakuya," she greeted warmly as she drew nearer.

I bowed slightly. "Mother."

"Dance with me, my son."

It was not a request. Nothing that came out of her mouth _ever_ was request. It was a _command_, even though she tempered it with a smile and a cajoling tone, and she would expect it to be obeyed.

I forced a small smile, as though I found pleasure in her 'request'. _You're in public,_ I reminded myself. _Fake it. You've been doing this all your life._ Extending my hand as though this were welcome, I vocalized some semblance of consent to the situation. "Of course, Mother."

She smiled at me as though happy, when she was truly only pleased that I'd followed my orders like a dutiful son. When she placed her hand in mine, I had to fight to control the overwhelming distaste that flooded through me.

Surely there was something wrong here. A son should never detest his own mother so much that his skin practically tried to crawl away when she touched him. Yet there was little I could do to stop it from happening.

Remaining silent, I led her out toward the other dancers and assumed the proper positioning on autopilot. I knew that this would be her only chance to chew me out privately before she drank too much and forgot exactly what I had done to anger her. It was one of my favorite birthday presents every year.

She waited until we'd been dancing for about thirty seconds to start in on me. "How dare you!" she hissed at me, maintaining her smiling mask.

"How dare I do what, Mother?" I inquired politely, blandly, still showing the face of an ever-dutiful son.

"That _ridiculous_, _hideous_ hair-stick! I told you to wear the _kenseikan_!"

Somehow, I managed to swallow down my anger at how she described one of the only items I held onto after my wife passed. "I _am_ wearing the _kenseikan_, Mother. I just happened to wear the other to hold my hair in place." I surveyed the crowd, carefully keeping my own mood in check as I made sure that no one around us was aware of our conversation.

"And the rose?" she demanded.

I wanted to growl. She had detested the roses ever since Hisana found them for me. "Doesn't it bring out the color of my eyes, Mother?" I inquired drolly.

She gaped for just a moment before continuing. "And you kissed your sister!" she seethed, apparently still unable to continue on the topic of the rose.

"On the cheek, Mother. You know how they love familial affection. They just eat it up with a spoon."

She fumed in silence for a few minutes longer, perhaps still unable to believe I'd thrown her own words back in her face. I simply didn't give a damn.

When the song came to an end, I kissed her cheek as well, startling the hell out of her. Her precious mask nearly slipped for an instant. "Thank you for the dance, Mother. Why don't you see if you can coax Father out onto the floor?" I inquired.

Were she anyone else or anywhere else, she would have stormed off angrily. Instead, she graced me with another hollow smile and patted my arm in a twisted mimicry of parental fondness.

Since I didn't wish to be a 'good boy' and play her stupid games any longer at that point, I bowed shallowly to her and returned to my comfortable lounging position against the wall.

Languidly, I watched her hurry away toward my father –probably to complain about how I was being such a horrible, ungrateful son. My eyes returned to the clock and I wondered how a span of time that had seemed like such a hellacious eternity could be squeezed into so few minutes.

Time slid by ever so slowly when I anxiously awaiting things. Yet being so interested in something was such a novelty to me that I found I didn't mind all that much.

* * *

_Ichigo:_

My head fell back and a loud, wanton moan pushed passed my lips. I was certain that I sounded like… well, like a whore.

Shuei chuckled. "Looks like you found it, kiddo. That's your prostate –your pleasure point. If at all possible, make sure your partner hits that spot as frequently as you can manage. You cannot feel pain when overwhelmed by pleasure."

I nodded to acknowledge to information he imparted, panting slightly as my own fingers wriggled inside of me. When I brushed against that spot again, I bit my lip to attempt to smother the moan I couldn't contain.

"_Gods_, Berry-chan. You look utterly delectable like that," he told me, his tone low and almost husky.

His favorable description took me by surprise. Honestly, I had figured I looked like one hell of a hot mess. My legs were splayed to that he could see to properly instruct me, my new yukata was gaping in my efforts to avoid getting anything on it, and I was panting and sweating and moving restlessly. Yet, I supposed that such as sight could possibly be incredibly erotic for an onlooker –for different reasons than the _actual_ ones for my actions, of course.

He shook his head as though to clear it. "Sweet _Lord,_ Berry-chan. Is everything you do so effortlessly seductive?" he murmured.

I wasn't certain if I was supposed to actually _hear_ that.

Clearing his throat, he spoke again. "You should be stretched enough. More than three fingers tend toward overkill –well, unless your partner is ridiculously well-endowed." A crooked smile crossed his lips. "You may wanna stop now, Berry-chan, or I might just come from watching you."

What was scary was that I wasn't so sure he was just teasing me.

Quickly, I withdrew my fingers, only to find them sticky with the lube I'd been using. I wrinkled my nose at that.

Shuei only laughed. "Acceptable losses, Berry-chan." He tossed me a damp cloth. "You can wipe your fingers on that. You'll want to keep one on hand, 'cause sex tends to be a messy business, kiddo."

Sitting up, I wiped my hand slowly. Setting the cloth aside, I resituated my yukata until I was properly covered once more. "Any other knowledge you care to impart, oh great sensei?" I inquired teasingly.

He made an absent thinking noise and stared off into space for a moment. When he looked back, he wouldn't meet my gaze. "Most partners will probably want to come inside you," he told me bluntly.

I blushed, still timid of his blunt language when it came to sex. I guessed that it went hand in hand with the whole virginity thing.

"So, I would recommend that you have your partner use a condom, unless you fancy the feeling of come dripping out of your hole," he added.

Blunt language apparently got _worse_. I was certain that I was just as red as a ripe strawberry now, after _that_ advice.

His gaze finally met mine again. "Do what comes natural, Berry-chan. You're a natural seducer. I can't really give you any tips on craft, mostly because you seem to stumble upon all of them naturally."

If that was supposed to banish my blush, it failed. "Thank you, Shuei," I mumbled.

He arched a brow at that. "For what?"

"For the sex talk. Sorry; apparently my father left large chunks out of my education when he gave me the talk. Of course, he _did_ assume that I was interested in women," I added wryly.

Shuei smile and leaned in to ruffle my fain. "No problem, kiddo. But don't you need to finish getting ready?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but I still have a little time."

He _tsked_ at me. "Get ready. It's better to wait on your client than to force him to wait on you." He ruffled my hair once more before leaving the room.

I looked down at my lap. Half-hard and aching, my cock begged for attention. Yet, I had no idea what this man who was my client looked like. Deciding to error on the side of caution, I ignored the condition of that part of me in favor of standing and removing my yukata. Glancing in the full-length mirror, I wondered what it was that people found so erotic about my body.

When I looked in the mirror, all I saw was tanned skin and functional muscle tone. I was lean and almost too skinny in some places. There was a light dusting of blond hairs that seemed to divide my torso into halves. There were strong arms, large hands, long fingers. My hips were almost feminine but still narrow. Beneath my hips were strong, efficient legs. My feet were wide and my toes were long. I was yet to find something erotic about my own body.

Sighing, I reached for the garment that had been commissioned specifically for _this_ evening. My calloused fingers caressed the silk for a few moments before I slipped into it. Carefully, I maneuvered the garment until it framed and bared my chest, just as Yumi had. Next, I wrapped the wide obi about my waist and quickly tied the obijimé in a neat bow. Glancing down, I noticed the strange symmetry to it. Absently, I thought about straightening it, but decided to just leave it.

Lifting my still-damp hair, I let it fall across my back. Yumi had cut a few inches off of it in most places, but it still reached an inch or two beneath my shoulder blades. Checking my reflection in the mirror, I carefully separated out the top half of my hair and twisted it up into a simple bun before taking a golden-tipped hair-stick and ramming it through the mass to hold it together. I added the second stick automatically before I decided the whole hairstyle looked a bit severe with all of my hair pulled tightly back. It took some effort and some careful maneuvering to not ruin the rest of the hairstyle, but I managed to pull a few strands forward to frame my face. Pulling some of the still-loose lower layer of hair forward, I let it spill over my other shoulder.

This time, when I looked in the mirror and saw myself there, I felt as though I saw an erotic creature. The kimono that seemed to barely cling to my shoulders, the damp hair that stuck to my skin, the messy half-hazard look to my hair… They seemed like the subtleties of a seduction in my eyes. They enticed and brought attention to the aspects of my own body in a way that made me feel as though they _could_ be erotic. It was Yumi's design and garment that made me feel erotic.

I hissed as silk slid over my sensitive cock and brought my attention back to the situation between my legs. Perhaps I _should_ just finish what I started earlier. It wasn't as though my client would feel the need to be attentive to such a reaction, right? I mean, a man whose pleasures are paid for would hardly worry about the whore's pleasure –at least, that was my experience.

* * *

_Byakuya:_

I exhaled slowly, watching the second hand tick until it marked the end of the hour.

Thank the gods it was finally time. I glanced around at the guests. All of them had been invited here on this occasion to celebrate my eighteenth birthday, yet I was certain that not one of them would notice when I escaped from this staged monstrosity.

My gaze was drawn to the scraps of the garden that I could see through the French doors. Would we truly be far enough from the party that no one would notice Renji and I meeting in my dark garden? Then I shook my head ruefully. Of _course_ we would be, because all of the guests were engaged in a quest to sate their pleasures, including a few that were almost having sex on various flat surfaces around the room.

Silently, I slipped into the deserted corridor. With practiced ease, I dodged the party guests and the palace guards as I made my way back to my rooms. Once inside, I released a soft sound of relief. Ripping the _kenseikan_ from my hair would hurt like a bitch, so I removed the hair stick and let it all fall down my back. Gently, I slid the porcelain monstrosities down the smooth strands, wincing when they pulled my hair anyway. When I finally removed them, I fought the urge to throw them onto the polished floor and shatter them. Instead, I tossed the pieces onto my bed.

I sighed before I decided to redo my hair. Leaving large chunks at the front that I could and _would_ hide behind if needed, I twisted the rest of my hair up into a bun and secured it with the same hair-sticks my mother had just raised chewed me out royally for wearing to my own birthday celebration. I surveyed myself in the mirror. There was a flush of excitement in my cheeks that made me seem my true age for once, not close to a decade older.

Making my way from my rooms to my garden was a piece of cake. When I reached the center of the still-dark garden, Renji was already awaiting me in the darkness.

He grinned at me, light from the dining room reflecting off his white teeth. "Ready to escape, Byakuya?" he inquired softly.

It was how I knew we were truly alone and beyond hearing range of anyone else. Renji refused to address me by only my given name unless there was absolutely no one around to hear him, and he _never_ took chances with that. "I've been ready to leave since the blasted party began," I remarked dryly.

His chuckle was the only sound I heard in the silence of the garden.

"Shall we go?" I intoned.

Renji's hands wrapped gently around my wrist in the darkness. "Let me be your eyes for right now, alright?" His voice was incredibly gently, as though such a thing might injure my pride or my honor.

I made a noise of assent and follow his leading. We didn't stop moving until we were more than a block from the palace gate. We paused for only an instant, laughing breathlessly at the strange ease of sneaking the crown prince out of his own birthday celebration. We were moving again soon enough, dodging people in the crowd and letting Renji play the role of my eyes once more as I kept my face down, knowing that I had an accumulation of very distinctive features that people _would_ recognize.

Yet even I could recognize from brief sidelong glances that my aid was leading me toward one of the most controversial areas of the city: the Red Light District. As he led me deeper into the district, an uneasy feeling grew in my stomach. As we drew nearer and nearer, I was pretty sure that I knew _exactly_ what my playful aid had procured a present for me: a whore. And, considering that he definitely _knew_ I had no sexual interest in women, I was willing to bet my next appointment with Yumichika that it was a _male_ whore.

I wrapped my hand around his wrist as he drew me into an alley, and Renji stopped dead.

"You figured out your gift?" I inquired good-naturedly.

"You bought me a _whore_, Renji?" I asked in a dangerously soft tone.

He swallowed hard. "Look, Byakuya, he'd an interesting kid. I've already given him forewarning that in all likelihood, all you'll want to do is talk. If nothing else, you should try to get to know him."

I took a deep breath.

_Right_. Only Renji would highjack me from my own birthday celebration and bring me to meet a member of the lowest level of society. Someday, I felt like he wanted to rub my face in my own feelings of impotence. Still, he thought this particular one would be incredibly interesting to me, whether on a sexual level or a social level.

"If you don't wanna go through with this, tell me now," Renji requested. "If nothing else, I can see that Berry-chan isn't punished for it."

I arched a brow. "Berry-chan?"

Renji grinned at my interest. "Strawberry is the name he goes by, and he always smells like them. Like I said, a _really_ interesting person to get to know. And you have all evening to do so."

I let myself ponder the notion more fully for a moment. Obviously, the kid had secrets of his own if he was using such an obvious assumed name. Meeting him once couldn't hurt, right?

"You'll meet him, won't you?" Renji asked, as though sensing the path of my thoughts.

I nodded slowly. "I suppose I will, since you went through all this trouble."

He grinned like a fool. "Great!"

He drew me a little further down the alley, then stopped to knock on a door. It opened quickly and a slender young woman quickly drew us both inside the building.

"Renji," the woman greeted him quietly.

He politely inclined his head. "Nemu," he murmured.

She didn't look at me. Instead, she handed Renji a dark cloth. "Berry-chan informed me that you acquaintance was likely to be highly recognizable, and we don't need the others gossiping and spilling secrets."

Sheepishly, Renji handed me the dark cloth.

With a half smile, I accepted it. I'd had to use such an unsophisticated maneuver before. After unfolding it, I draped it over my face to hide it. To my surprise, I found that it was just thin enough that I wasn't _completely_ blind.

The slender girl finally looked at me for the first time, now that my face was obscured. "Good evening, sir. I apologize for the minor formalities; they are simply for your protection. I am Nemu, and I will be the one to escort you to the room." She smiled gently. "Please be gentle with our Berry-chan. He can be a bit… _shy_."

Renji choked, apparently understanding a nuance of her meaning that I didn't. "Are you fucking _kidding_ me?!" he murmured.

Nemu eyed him. "You didn't know?"

"Hell no, I didn't know! Gods," he groaned.

I had no way to know what they were talking about –though I was surprised that Renji had spent enough time in such an establishment to have a notion of the codes inherent in their language– but whatever it was, it certainly surprised the hell out of Renji.

Nemu looked at me. "Come. Berry-chan is waiting."

That shut Renji up.

Silently, we followed the woman up the stairs and down a hall. When we came to a stop in front of a door, she lifted her hand and knocked three times on the door. "Berry-chan, your guests."

"Thank you, Nemu. Won't you gentlemen enter, please?" a warm baritone voice inquired. His manners seemed deeply ingrained, especially since his voice seemed to shake with nervousness. I wondered if he had any _idea_ who Renji had made these arrangements for.

Nemu slid the door open and ushered us into the room. When she exited the room and slid the door closed behind us, I exhaled a low breath and removed my dark veil. My eyes immediately wwnt to trace the form of the person Renji had been so desperate that I meet.

I'd always been a big fan of anticipation, and Lord knew that Renji was probably well aware of my taste in men. So when I began to look him over, I started at his bare feet. Slowly, I allowed my gaze to trace up his slender well-muscled legs to the hem of his kimono. The kimono was a luxurious concoction of charcoal silk with a lighter gray design, edged in golden silk. The obi was wide and almost feminine bound with a golden obijimé with an odd sort of symmetry, emphasizing the slenderness of his hips and waist. His chest was utterly delectable and barely graced by the silk at all. It was just as well: I could imagine swiping my tongue across that broad chest and leaving damp patches of skin and cloth. Wide, broad shoulders only added to the beauty and strength of his body.

Yet my biggest surprise was yet to come.

My eyes slowly traced the long strawberry-blond hair up to his chiseled jaw. When my eyes traced the familiar features of his face and met those serious shock-blown whiskey-colored eyes, I exhaled a heavy breath in my own shock. I'm sure my own eyes flared wide in shock, because _this was the boy_.

This was the boy I had dreamt of since I was only a child. This was the boy I could _never_ hear the name of in my dreams. The boy I had _sworn_ to protect, should I ever find him in real life.

And here he was, working in one of the most famous brothels in Kakoku.

Trying had to not stare or gape, I eyed the boy slowly, wondering how on earth Renji had _known_ that I _needed_ to meet _this_ boy.

* * *

_I love this chapter -so, so much! There are lots of reasons, many of which will embarrass me if I put them out there, so I'll just leave them out :P_

_If any of you are re-reading, I'm sure you remember a charming Omake._

_Aren't you glad I didn't delete it off my computer? haha_

_I never do this… but I actually wrote a scene that I didn't use in the story. So, instead of completely pitching it, I thought I would add it as an omake for your enjoyment._

_Keep in mind, this is the off-screen action in the story -it __**does**__ happen, it just doesn't make the chapter, because I thought the chapter was sensual enough without it and I wasn't sure I could fill out this perspective well enough to bother..._

* * *

_Shuei:_

Gods, that boy was an orgasm on legs, and it was as though he had no _clue_!

I felt a bit dirty as I hid in the bathroom, jacking off to the mental image of Berry-chan fingering himself for the first time. I may have felt dirty, but evidently I didn't feel dirty enough to stop myself.

When I heard the door open, I stopped short, panting hard. I was at once curious and terrified of who that person might be.

I was sure nothing on earth would have surprised me more than the moment that those sweet little mewls of pleasure began to fill the room. However, much to my chagrin, I was wrong. The only thing that surprised me _more_ was that I recognized that voice. It was my sweet little Berry-chan.

Fucking _hell_, the Fates either loved me dearly or loathed my very existence. They obviously loved me dearly because –hello, who needs mental jerk off material when that sweet voice and his soft panting filled the room? Yet they definitely loathed my very existence because I dared not make a single sound or take a loud breath as I stroked myself in time to his pleasured sounds and panting breaths.

When he gasped out in orgasm, I followed quickly, covering my own hand with my semen. Still, I dared not make a sound until heard him leave the bathroom.

Then, and only then, did I dare pant out, "Oh, _Gods_. Berry-chan."

* * *

_So, I hope you enjoyed chapter six (part seven) and the omake! _

_Let me know if you:  
~loved it  
~hated it  
~wondered why it's here to clutter up the story, c'mon get to the good stuff already, woman!  
~were intrigued  
Or anything else, really -I really want some feedback on this chapter because it was a lot of hard work~_

_Ever at your pleasure,  
~Sins~_

5016 words - Chapter 6

245 words - Omake feat. Shuei Hisagi


	9. Chapter 7

_Hello, my doves!_

_To my wonderful reviewer known as ATP:_

I'm glad you enjoyed the bonuses :) That makes me very, very happy! :heart: It was hard work, but it was definitely worth it since you enjoyed it :)  
Oh, don't worry. I wanna crush Queen Akane under my own heel. It's not just you. She was made to be hated and detested, and I really do hate her myself. Hajime... is very very numb to everything and he medicates his numbness with alcohol.  
I couldn't resist making it _literally_ the man of dreams... probably because I'm such a sap . Just wait until... well, the first part of this chapter ^^ You get to see Ichigo's perspective on things :))  
I... I couldn't resist, haha. Gotta love that man. Just a hint: you'll see more of him. Why? Because it's a gay, gay kingdom we're in :P  
I've never done Ichigo/Kisuke before. Those two are so... wonderful together even when straight ^^I'm really happy to get to try it out :) Glad I'll get to see you around with that one, too, though! I always look forward to your comments!  
I swear, I will never abandon this story. Wanna know why? Because this story is... utterly hysterical, and it's really really fun to write!

_Anyway!_

_I wrote this last night, when I had plenty of coffee, cookies, a big glass of lemonade, a candy bar, a generous portion of tiramisu and fan-art (unrelated to the story) hot enough to melt the permafrost._

_I think we're ready to see things go a little further for our boys, ne?_

_I'm afraid Ichigo got a bit out of hand on me... Seriously, his perspective is about triple his normal allowed length...but I'm letting him get away with some things I'm sure you all will enjoy it :)_

_If I can convince Byakuya, you may get something really good... ;P_

_Chapter warnings include:  
~20 Questions  
~Kissing Lessons  
~Cute nicknames  
~Ichigo's first name is revealed! (Well, not like all y'all didn't know it :P)  
~Not-lying to Byakuya... :P  
~Sexy things..._

* * *

_Ichigo:_

He was the crown prince.

He was the fucking _Kōketsuna_ Prince!

Fucking _Renji_, that bastard! Couldn't he have _warned_ me that I was his birthday present to the Hope of Nigotta?

Thankful for the manners my mother had so deeply ingrained in me, I at least knew what to do in this situation. I bowed deeply at the waist, my back parallel to the floor. "Happy birthday, your highness," I greeted warmly, carefully averting my gaze for fear of one of the most powerful people in the country seeing me blush.

Merciful _gods_, the prince was utterly gorgeous! I'd heard many rumors to that extent, but I'd gotten a chance to study him up close when he'd been looking _me_ over. He was so…_lovely_! Moon-pale skin I couldn't help but want to mark and shiny onyx hair that I couldn't quite judge the length of were two of the most blatant aspects of his beauty. He was also lean and a certain amount of muscle was visibly apparent. I got the feeling that the prince was forever poised, prepared for any sort of attack.

Ah, but it was those eyes that really got me. The prince's age was common knowledge, but there was something about those steel-gray eyes that made him seem so much older than 18. Almost as though he had lived twice that time in only those years.

"I see that an introduction isn't necessary." Renji chuckled.

"Perhaps you should make one, anyway, Renji," the prince told him pointedly. Still, his voice was warm, smooth, soothing. I couldn't understand why anyone would say that the prince could freeze one's blood with a single word –though that was probably _mostly_ related to the fact that his voice seemed to be on a mission to turn me into a melted puddle of _lust_. "Won't you rise?" he inquired softly.

I did as I was bid, rising to a stiff posture that my mother had always insisted was suitable for the highest of the noble classes. Stubbornly, I kept my gaze on everything but the bed and that beautiful face, instinctively knowing that if I managed to meet those eyes, I would turn as red as Renj's crimson mane.

Renji inclined his head at his own orders. "Berry-chan, this is Kuchiki Byakuya, the _Kōketsuna_ Prince, the crown prince of Nigotta," he intoned, gesturing to the prince with his hands. "Prince Byakuya, this is the ever delectable Strawberry, a good friend of mine."

The prince inclined his head, acknowledging the introductions. Meanwhile, I prayed strenuously that the heat I felt on my face was in no way visible to my guest.

Renji wore a satisfied smirk. "Alright. You two kids enjoy yourselves. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he added, winking at the prince.

And with that, the annoying red-headed man that had set me up for the biggest surprise I had ever suffered in my life hurried out the door. At least he managed to remember to close it behind him.

The prince gave me a tender lilting smile. "I take it Renji didn't tell you who you'd be receiving."

"No, he didn't. I even asked him specifically, but he told me it would ruin the surprise," I returned wryly. "I think half of your present may have been my shock."

To my surprise, the prince chuckled. "It's not the usual reaction that people have when they meet me, no. It was rather refreshing."

I couldn't help but smile at that. Silently, I directed him to the low table where we would take our tea. Since the prince was obviously well-versed in the customary etiquette, he waited until I reached my seat and sat down before me. I sat down, as well. "Tea, your highness?" I inquired.

"Tea would be wonderful, actually, but it would also be wonderful if you would simply call me Byakuya."

For one moment, I somehow scrounged up the daring to look into those eyes. The tenderness I saw there was surprising –and shockingly welcome. Something inside of me seemed _hungry_ for the tenderness in that gaze. "A-alright," I returned, pouring the tea into his cup and handing it to him.

Fucking _hell_. This was the crown _prince_. Though my family had fallen from favor, my clan was still quite active in Nigotta's politics. Not to mention the fact that one of my cousins had been hand-selected by this prince to watch over his younger sister. There was no way in hell that 'Strawberry' would survive this encounter, not without reverting to my true name, my true nature. I wondered how he would feel to find out that I wasn't a commoner at all –instead, I was a fallen noble, torn between two nations' parentage.

Yet for all I should have run screaming from the room, I continued. Pouring my own tea, I lifted the cup to my lips and drank a small sip, watching him over the edge of my tea cup and pondering if I would give my virginity over the this man with no regrets. Surprisingly, I had no trouble with the notion.

The prince was drinking his tea and watching me as well, and a small smile crossed his lips when he realized I was reciprocating the action.

When we both had drained out first cup of tea without speaking a single word, I released a loud sigh and poured more tea for each of us. "I know this is a little unconventional, … Byakuya, but can I ask what you intend this evening to end in? Renji said that odds were you would simply want to talk, but I feel the need to ask before this goes any further."

He blinked, perhaps a little surprised by my forwardness. "Well, so far, I would simply like a chance to get to know you…"

"Berry-chan," I inserted. "My friends call me Berry-chan."

A smiled crossed his lips. "Berry-chan, then. It might change at some point, but I'd really like a chance to get to know you."

There was something about that smile that made me helplessly return it. "Well, I don't know about you, but the awkward silence is… well, awkward. So, how about we try a little question game? I'll ask a question, you'll answer it. Then you get to ask a question and I'll answer it. It might help break the ice some."

"Would you like to begin, Berry-chan?"

I pondered it for a moment. "Do you know what everyone calls you? Well, mostly the commoners…"

A pensive look crossed his face briefly. "No, I don't. Would you tell me?"

"Sure," I told him, "but that won't count as your question. We call you the Hope of Nigotta. I think most of us are patiently awaiting your rule."

That took him a moment to absorb. "I hope I can live up to that," he murmured. "If you don't want to answer this, fell free to tell me to ask something else. When that young woman greeted me, she told me to be gentle, that you were 'a bit shy'. Evidently, there was a meaning I didn't get there. Will you explain?"

I was absolutely certain I blushed. "What Nemu meant was that I'm a virgin. It's a common thing to say to warn a customer of that."

It was the prince's turn to blush. "Oh," was all he said, but I got the feeling he was holding something back.

"Why is it that you and Princess Rukia never seem to leave the palace?" I asked, hoping to move the topic to something less personal.

"The last time I left the palace, I was 13. When I returned, I was married. My parents expressed their displeasure with my marriage by forbidding Rukia and myself to leave the palace without supervision." He studied my face for a moment. "How long have you known Renji?"

"Half a year, at most. I've only been working here for around seven months, and Renji met me through another of the men that work here –Shuei." My curiosity was perked by the rose pinned to his chest. It was familiar to me, like something my mother had grown in her garden, so I couldn't help but ask about it. "May I ask about the origins of that rose?"

He smiled slightly. "My wife Hisana found this variety in Kōsei and brought a start home to me. She was forever looking for new varieties to add to my garden." After a brief pause, he asked, "How old are you, Berry-chan?"

I wondered if the answer would surprise him. "I'm nineteen."

One elegant brow arched. "Isn't that rather young to be working in this sort of… _establishment_?"

"Yeah, it is, but I have never looked my age. I've been working in one brothel or another since I was thirteen."

"The age of consent is fifteen."

"In some places, that doesn't matter. And I needed the money." I eyed him. He'd ask a few _really_ personal things, so I figured I could go there, too. "Renji told me you were a virgin. True or false, Byakuya?"

He laughed ruefully, whether at my swift change of topic or my question. "True, Berry-chan. What _else_ did Renji tell you about me?"

I reached into my pocket, strangely glad that I'd brought the note with me tonight. "This is pretty much all he told me," I offered, holding the folded paper out to him.

Gingerly, he lifted the paper and unfolded it. When he read the contents, his face remained impassive but some bright color rose to his ears.

"Does anyone know you're out of the palace tonight, Byakuya?" I inquired.

"Only three people: Renji, who snuck me out; Rukia, who is still stuck at the celebration; and Shiba Kaien, who is to aid in my return."

I felt as though a rock hit the pit of my stomach when he said my cousin's name. Fucking hell, I had just been enjoying my conversation with him. Now all I felt was a desperate need to throw up.

"Where is your family? That is, assuming you're not an orphan." He tilted his head, obviously interested in my answer.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. "My mother died when I was nine. My father lives out near the border of Kōsei, and my two younger sisters look after him." I studied his face for a moment. "Why _did_ you come with Renji tonight?"

"He seemed determined that I meet you. Also, those parties are always horrible, and this gave me something special to look forward to." He fell silent, but a blush rose to his cheeks as he asked his next question. "You've been working in brothels for six years, but you're a virgin. What is it that you do here?"

I chuckled at his delicate way of asking. "I'm a one trick pony, really. I apparently give the best blowjobs in the entire Red Light District." I got the sheer joy of watching his blush deepen in color. "So how do _you_ feel about your parents' rule?"

The speed in which he composed himself was nothing short of amazing. "My parents are wasteful and selfish. It would have been much better for Nigotta if the right to rule had passed to my uncle Sōjun. Instead, Uncle Sōjun became one of my tutors and did his best to make sure I'd become a better ruler than my parents." His eyes seemed to study me and I did my best not to squirm under the attention. "Your kimono is… exquisite. Who created it?"

"Ayasegawa Yumichika. He said the entire garment was a tease." I smiled at the memories. Then, recalling what Ikkaku had said about the dark colors, I knew I had to ask him. "Doesn't Yumichicka also design clothes for you?"

He nodded. "In all honesty, I would prefer my entire wardrobe be filled out with only things he makes." He studied my smile for an instant. "Did Yumichika measure your body with his hands?"

I chuckled. "It was really surprising when he did that within minutes of meeting me. Yumi had trouble keeping his hands off of me the second time I saw him. It was really, really cute." I allowed myself a moment to ponder my next question. "How do you feel about your younger sister?"

"She can be unbearably sweet at times. I love spending time with her." There was a solid beat of silence before he spoke again. "What about you? How do you feel about your sisters?"

"Yuzu and Karin are a handful and a half, but they're great. They're twins, but you wouldn't be able to guess that from their personalities." I took a breath. "They're the reason I'm working, but none of my family know how I make my living." I pursed my lips thoughtfully. "Were you surprised when Renji brought you here tonight?"

"A bit. I feel like I shouldn't have been. He's the only one of my friends who would even _think_ to drag me to the Red Light District, and he can be a bit of a prankster." His dark eyes seemed to look right through me. "What's your sexual preference?"

"I prefer men. Always have." I shrugged. "What about you?"

"Same, actually. Who was your first crush?"

I wondered how I could say it without revealing myself. "My father thought it important that I learn how to handle a sword when I was young. My first crush was on the man who was my instructor." I smiled. "Who was _your_ first crush, Byakuya?"

"This will probably sound really naïve," he confessed with a blush. "I've had these dreams since I was very young. In these dreams, there's this… guy who's always there, always some unrequited unreachable love. I guess he was my first crush."

"That… is not naïve; that's unbelievably romantic," I informed him.

He blushed a little more, then cleared his throat. "May I ask why you chose the name 'Strawberry'?"

"My mother actually used to call me that. She loved strawberries. I guess it was a way to feel close to her again?" I met his gaze again with a smile. "If you're gay, why did you marry Hisana?"

"I don't know if you ever saw her. No one ever commented on it, but she looked like a slightly-older version of Rukia. Something inside of me just… _needed_ to protect her. Failing to protect Hisana was like failing to protect Rukia." Those eyes were on me again and I shivered, praying he didn't notice. "You look a great deal like Shiba Kaien. Are you associated with the Shiba clan?"

I had to bite back hollow laughter. "No, I'm not associated with the Shibas," I informed him. Hell, it wasn't even a lie: the Shiba clan had cut all ties to my family not long after my mother died. Still, if he was asking questions like that, it wouldn't take my clever little prince long to figure the rest off it out. It would be best to distract him before he got any closer to the truth. "Have you ever been kissed, Byakuya?" I inquired softly, turning the words with a slight seductive note.

He blinked, as though attempting to assimilate to the changing topic. "Ah… I, uh, assume you mean more than chastely?"

I nodded, thinking about how cute his hesitation was.

"No, I haven't," he admitted.

I smiled slowly and leaned across the table, careful of the china. Kissing, I could manage.

His eyes widened when my lips touched his. Gently, I brushed my sealed lips against his lower lip. I brushed them against his upper lip next. With a sense of finality, I pressed my lips firmly against his. Waiting a moment, I parted my own lips to run the tip of my tongue across the seam of his lips, wondering if my little prince would open his mouth and sate my need to know how he tasted. Or perhaps it would be a matter of his own curiosity.

When he gasped slightly, I hesitated a moment. I didn't want to take advantage of the opening if it was just surprise. When he made no move to seal his lips again, I used my tongue to coax his mouth open a little more before dipping his tongue inside to swipe a little of his taste. He tasted warm and sweet, like red tea and champagne, and all I wanted was to taste more of him. Yet if I had any doubt about my little prince's curiosity, all of it was blown away the instant he touched the tip of his tongue to mine.

I wanted to grin like a fool. Using my tongue to stroke and tease his, I dipped further inside his mouth to swirl my tongue against the roof of his mouth. He made a soft inviting sound that I felt clear to my bones. Somehow, I managed to coax him into using his own tongue to explore my mouth in turn.

While I was certainly enjoying the opportunity to teach my little prince how to kiss, oxygen was one of those imperative needs that I couldn't ignore for much longer. When I pulled away, I got a chance to gaze upon his flushed cheeks, desire-glazed eyes, well-kissed mouth. My little prince looked absolutely delectable, and the sight sent a bolt of heat straight to my groin.

"Now you have," I told him softly, retreating back to my seat. I was surprised by how husky my voice was.

He blinked adorably, then registered what I'd said. "I-I guess I have, Berry-chan," he returned shakily.

Why was every little thing that my little prince did absolutely adorable? It wasn't like me to want to seduce a man that was most of a year younger than me. Nor was it like me to get strangely possessive over him since the moment I met him. Just when had I begun to refer to him as 'my little prince': before or after I kissed those lovely lips of his?

He shifted restlessly, and I couldn't help but wonder if that simple kiss had aroused my chaste little prince. "It's your question," I reminded him gently, as though that game were the only thing on my mind.

"…I don't think I can even come up with one," he admitted softly.

I couldn't smother my smile. "Well, how about if I pose another one, then?"

"That's fine."

I reached across the table, tipping his chin up so I could look into those beautiful eyes. "May I kiss you again, Byakuya?" I inquired.

* * *

_Byakuya:_

It wasn't fair that this man could steal my breath so easily with one little kiss.

I don't know who I thought I was kidding: he did a hell of a lot more that steal my breath. He scrambled my brains, tasted like strawberries, kissed like the devil, and _made me hard with one stupid kiss_. Life was definitely not fair, since he didn't even seem to be _breathing_ hard and I couldn't even form a coherent thought!

But when he asked if he could kiss me again… oh, I knew I was positively _doomed_. This man was going to rule me, and I was going to love it. I was too far gone to even _deny_ that.

So in response, I nodded slowly against the hand that was cupping my chin. His wide smile was a thing of beauty.

I watched him stand and reach for my hands. Tenderly, he helped me up before leading me to the piece of furniture that had dominated my thoughts since I'd entered the room: the four-poster bed. I blushed more for this man than I ever had in my life.

He seated us both on the edge of the bed and smiled at me again. I met those whiskey eyes and found myself incredibly relieved when I realized I wasn't the only one feeling the heat. The heat reflected in his eyes would have been enough to scorch my pale skin, just like the sunshine always did.

This time, when he leaned forward, he pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth. It was butterfly soft, but I felt it down to my toes. A soft gasp escaped me, and he took the opening to press an open-mouthed kiss to my mouth. Gently, he sucked my lower lip into his mouth and I couldn't help the moan that escaped me. I could feel his lips quirk into a smile, obviously pleased with my reaction. Desperate to do something more than be kissed by this remarkable man, I reached out with one hand and stroked his upper arm.

One of his hands slipped up behind me. I felt my hair fall when he removed my prized hair-stick, but honest to god, I didn't give a _damn_ where the thing had ended up when his hand threaded into my hair. He pulled me closer, bridging most of the physical distance between us with a single, decisive action.

Feeling the need to bridge the distance on another front as well, I flicked my tongue out against his, wondering how he would react. When he released a soft pleased sound, I flushed with pleasure and twined my arms around him to pull him even closer. He titled my head slightly and advanced, sliding his own slick tongue into my mouth.

If I were honest, the concept of a French kiss had always seemed somehow gross to me. I hadn't understood what was so intimate about sliding a tongue against another slick tongue, tracing teeth and learning the inside of someone else's mouth like you knew your own. I hadn't understood how there could be pleasure and intimacy. If I were truly honest, perhaps it had something to do with how innocent I was and, in equal measure, what I'd watched oblivious pleasure-seekers do. It seemed slick and messy and _gross_ to me.

Yet when Berry-chan had his tongue in my mouth, I felt nothing of the revulsion that had kept me from going this far with anyone. With teasing strokes, he coaxed my tongue to dance with his at the rhythm he set. My breath was his breath as his hand held me close and the other wandered my body lazily. My hand stroked his spine as I got drunk on the taste of a sweet strawberry.

When my lungs burned for air, we separated for a moment or two –well, long enough for a needy sound to slip past my lips and embarrass the heck out of me. Yet his smile didn't feel condescending. It may have had something to do with the way his whiskey-colored eyes dilated and the way his lips seemed moist and swollen from our kisses.

I took a deep breath. "I came up with a question."

He chuckled. "Ask away, Byakuya."

Gods, the way he exhaled my name like that made me all kinds of desperate! Still, I licked my lips self-consciously. "Will you tell me your first name, Berry-chan?"

He swallowed hard. "It's Ichigo," he told me, his voice husky and rusty.

I smiled at that. It was a strong name, a good name. "Ichigo," I repeated, tasting it on my tongue.

With that new piece of knowledge, I leaned in and kissed _him_ this time. It may have just been a chaste press of lips, but it didn't stay that way for long. This time, I demonstrated the first lessons he'd shown me: asking for entry patiently with my tongue until he yielded to me, tracing strange designs against the roof of his mouth, tasting his tongue. Then I added my own twist, gently sucking on his tongue until the softest of pleasure noises escaped him.

He drew back and graced me with a smile. "Fast learner," he panted out, his fingers tracing delicate designs on my back.

"Good teacher," I returned, out of breath as well as I traced the curve of his spine again.

He laughed lightly and kissed me again, this time with unleashed passion. I realized he'd been holding back, afraid of scaring me, and I appreciated it. Well, at least the logical part of me appreciated it, knowing that his first kiss would have scared me to death if he'd kissed me this way. The other part of me wanted to submit and let this beautiful man do whatever he wanted to me.

I moaned out his name softly when he nipped at my lower lip and met the thrust of his tongue with my own.

He drew back, eyes a little wide before they refocused with that heady heat. He dropped kisses along my jaw line and took a moment to nip at one of my sensitive earlobe. I made a soft sound of pleasure and felt my posture change, arching my neck like it would bring me closer to his touch. The chuckle that filled the room somehow didn't make me feel as though I was being laughed at. It felt more like he was… _enjoying_ me.

When he trailed kisses down my neck, his fingers playing along my own spine, I found that I wanted more. Slowly, I reached out and stroked the smooth skin of his chest, loving the way hard muscles tensed and flexed and trembled as I caressed them.

"Byakuya…" he panted out.

Gods, that was reason enough to never let anyone but this man say my name ever again. It sent chills down my spine and made me want that much _more_ of him.

"Mm, Ichigo?" I responded lightly.

"I think you're a natural," he told me with a light laugh.

I arched a brow at that. "A natural, huh?"

"Well, at least with me," he amended with a chuckle.

"Well, if you're so sure about that, let me try something," I challenged him softly.

He smiled back at me, laughter dancing in his eyes. "Go ahead."

I studied him for a moment before even moving at all. Luckily for me, he was far enough up on the bed that it took only a little careful calculation on my part to situate him perfectly for what I had in mind. I pushed him back gently. He let me, that silly little smile never leaving his mouth, so I took it one step further and maneuvered his legs so that he lay on his back in the middle of the bed. I smiled down at him happily, only to find he was a mite disconcerted with this change. I kissed his lips gently, trying to reassure him a little, then covered most of his body with my own.

Watching his face, I decided to change my plans a little. Planting my knees outside his hips, I sat back and rested part of my weight on his thighs. At this new position, some of the panic left his face, and I felt better about it. Turning to the task I had in mind, I tugged gently as the parted silk that had taunted me all evening. I managed to part it far enough on either side to reveal pert caramel nipples. Apparently a little temperature sensitive, they hardened as soon as they were revealed to my hungry gaze.

Leaning forward, I traced the valley between his defined muscles all the way down to his belly-button. I traced the rim of the cute little navel before dipping my tongue in teasingly and reveling in his gasp. Still, I returned to my starting point and moved a little to the right. I nibbled on the succulent skin of his shoulder, loving the shiver that tore through his powerful body. Next, I turned my attention to the nipple I bared. Lathing it with my tongue, I drew damp circles around the tightened skin until a groan came from the man beneath me. Only then did I draw the pert bud into my mouth, sucking gently until I got another sweet noise. Remembering how much I had enjoyed him nipping on my earlobe, I closed my teeth around it and received another little noise for my trouble.

I lathed it with my tongue once more before I decided to move on. With a soft smile, I pressed chaste kisses across the breadth of his strong chest and took pleasure in the shallow breaths that increased in rapidity the closer I got to his other nipple.

"Gods… Byakuya…" he murmured.

I wanted to grin. Instead, I dropped a kiss on his other nipple before repeating the same treatment I had given the first one. His noises were more frequent, more driving, so when I completed my treatment of the second nipple, I dropped kisses from his nipple down to his trembling stomach. Then I quit pretending I had any such thing as a plan. I placed scorching wet kisses all over the warm expanse of his chest until his hips began to shift restlessly against me.

Surprisingly, I had a good idea as to why. Perhaps because those sweet little noises of his were driving me mad and I had felt my own arousal grow heavier each time I did something he liked. I drew back slowly and he made a slightly keening sound in protest.

"Fucking _hell_, I think that goes beyond sheer natural talent," he groaned, making me feel as though I'd been torturing him. He _had_ liked it, though, so that made it some sort of pleasure-torture, right?

I just smiled down at him, immensely pleased with myself.

I was a little surprised when he moved suddenly and I found myself pinned beneath that strong body that I had just been worshiping with my mouth. A small noise escaped me, and all I got in return was that haunting, taunting smile. Instead of going straight for my chest, the way I had with him, he focused in on my neck. Sweet wet kisses covered the skin and I wanted to beg for more. When he nipped the column of my neck, a low moan curled out of somewhere deep within me. He kissed down my collarbone, hands fumbling with the silken kimono until he could part it far enough to access more of the skin.

My hands lifted of their own accord, yanking the two hair-sticks out of beautiful strawberry-blond hair so it could fall about his face and whisper across my chest. When he gave attention to one of my nipples, the fingers of one of my hands laced deeply into his thick hair as a noise snuck past my unguarded lips.

"Ichigo!" I panted out as he suckled on the tender skin.

He moved to the other, repeating his ritual until I wanted to beg. He planted kisses down the center of my chest, following the line of dark hair that led further into uncharted waters. When he drew back and met my eyes, I about drowned in the heat I found there.

"Can I mark you, Byakuya?" he whispered, his voice low and husky.

"Sh-shoulder!" I panted out, suddenly _needing_ him mark me. It was like something in my soul was crying out that I belonged to him and only him.

Restless hands quickly moved the kimono. His hot mouth latched onto my shoulder, and I moaned out his name like a prayer. He nipped and sucked and tongued the spot for a few moments, pulling away with a slick _pop_ to gaze on the spot. He dropped a kiss on the skin below my ear and blew air on the damp skin. I wriggled underneath the weight of his body, unsure of what I was asking for with the simple motion.

When he drew back, his hands rested on my precisely tied obi. "Let me, Byakuya?" he asked in that husky voice.

It took my brain a few seconds to realize exactly what he was asking of me. My body screamed for release from all of the teasing, all of the touching, all of the kisses. But if I let him do that, where would the line stand? Was it his job? Was it his own desire? I had to know, before I let him do something like that. I didn't want it to be trade, a service for money. I wanted it to be _him_. Was that too much to ask?

"Ichigo?" I asked, my lust-fogged brain too lost to ask the whole question.

Luckily for me, it seemed I had an incredibly smart… seducer. He chuckled warmly. "Hey, I'm not in the habit of asking if it's for that, Byakuya," he told me sweetly, pressing another kiss to my sternum. "Let me?" he inquired again, his voice quiet.

"Please, Ichigo," I murmured, surprised I didn't stutter in response.

When he pulled back and looked down on me, there was a grin on his lips. When those deft hands untied my obi, I trembled, still slightly scared but mostly anticipating him. His fingers played the silk against my straining need and I moaned out his name, ever my prayer tonight.

"You sound so beautiful," he murmured, his voice so rough.

I blushed and panted.

He parted the silk carefully and looked at my arousal. I'm pretty sure I managed to invent a few new shades of red as my blush got darker and darker as he studied me.

Yet it was all worth it when he made a needy sound, himself. "Gods, must you be so fucking gorgeous _everywhere_?" he inquired, eyes wide and awed.

When he pressed a kiss to the tip, I let out a soft whimper. He licked the length of me once, twice, three times before he drew the tip into his mouth. It was the sweetest agony I'd ever experienced. That clever tongue probed my tip for a single instant before he took several inches into his mouth all at once. My head fell back against the mattress and I cried out in bliss, sure that there was nothing in the world that felt as good as this.

Then and only then did he begin to move. Up and down and up and down, a swipe of his tongue, increased suction. Up and down and up and down again. I was pretty sure all of my brain functions had completely ceased. My entire world was the wet heat of his mouth and my cock being teased and taunted and tortured in the most pleasurable of ways by it.

A soft cry escaped my lips when I felt the pleasure coiling tightly inside of me. Ichigo hummed around the length in his mouth and I fought the need to fall back and thrash in desperate pleasure. My hands fisted in the bed sheets and he expertly pushed me closer and closer. When he grazed me with his sharp teeth, I moaned out his name loudly, my entire body trembling with the need to release.

He increased the suction by only a tiny bit, increased his pace by a little more, and suddenly I was falling over the precipice into oblivion, my vision going entirely white in ecstasy as I came with a loud cry of "Ichigo!"

When I came back down from the incredibly pleasure he'd driven me to, I smiled as I looked at the man still hovering over me. Lacing my fingers in his hair, I gently tugged him back up until I could taste his incredible mouth once more. He seemed a little reluctant to kiss me, and that was all it took to make me recall that I _had_ actually come in his mouth. Still, that didn't bother me, so I kissed him anyway, nibbling on his protuberant lower lip until he opened his mouth to me anyway.

Alright, so the taste of semen probably wasn't anything to write home about. The taste of that mouth, however, was worth any evils I had to endure to get it. Besides, he'd actually had _me_ come in his mouth, so some inner caveman part of me was beating his hands against his naked chest in victory at the taste of my come in his mouth. He got a little more open with the kiss once he realized the other didn't bother me.

We separated slowly, languidly, and I thought about things a bit. While he was still off-guard, I rolled us until I sat on top of his hips once more. He blinked up at me in stunned surprise, so I kissed him once more, then trailed kisses to his ear.

"I want to make _you_ come, Ichigo," I whispered.

Poor Ichigo choked on whatever it was he had wanted to say.

I couldn't help but smile at that. Gods, but he was adorable. Slowly, I trailed my hands down to his obi. The asymmetrical knot of the obijimé was the first to go. Then I unwrapped the wider obi, letting it fall across the bed. The silken kimono was the last to be parted. And I got my own chance to stare at a fully aroused male. The pale blond curls at the apex of his thighs begged to have fingers threaded through them, and I did thusly for a moment before looking up to meet those lusty whiskey eyes. Gods, but I could get drunk just looking at them!

I knew I lacked the confidence to suck him, as he had me. Fortunately, I had a lot more experience with my hands than my mouth, even if it was a little… personal. Yet I felt the need to explore him a little more before I got down to business. Tentatively, I trailed my fingers across the sensitive skin. He moaned softly, eyes falling closed for a moment before he forced them open again. I stroked the soft skin again, this time a bit more confidently. He made another sweet sound, encouraging me to get down to the business of things.

I wrapped my hand around his member gently, moving my hand slowly around his arousal. The keening sound he made seemed to beg for more. A little less afraid of hurting him, I tightened my grip a little and found a rapid rhythm, throwing in a twist of my wrist here and there to make things interesting. I got to watch my pretty little Ichigo come completely unglued, his toes moving against the air for purchase, his leg muscles clenching and unclenching. Lurid sounds poured past those perfect lips and if I wasn't still so spent from the last time, I was certain my cock would be standing up at full attention.

"Bya…kuya…" he panted out in warning.

I kicked up my pace a little, watching his hips move into the motion of my hand. Remembering the pleasure from when he'd pressed his tongue against my slit, I applied a gentle pressure with one finger. He bucked into it, crying out my name when he found that pinnacle of pleasurable agony.

I didn't particularly care that he had come all over my bare thighs and even managed to splash up on my chest. I was happy to have given him these moments of pleasure.

When he recovered, his cheeks were the color of over-ripe strawberries, and I leaned up to kiss him with a laughing smile. "You're beautiful, Ichigo," I told him softly, muttering the words against his lips.

I hadn't thought about it earlier, but as I cuddled against that beautiful body and kissed those lush lips, my mind churned over other troubles back at the palace. Having another body working security detail would increase my chances of making it to my next birthday, and it could get this beautiful man out of this brothel. I wondered if he'd accept my offer. I pressed a series of kisses against his shoulder and watched a smile light up his face. Like a flower needs the sunshine,_ I_ needed this man near me, so I had to ask.

"Ichigo?" I murmured.

"Hmm?"

"If I asked you to live in the palace with me, would you?" I inquired, still dancing around what I wanted to ask.

"Mm," he remarked lazily. "As what? The consort?"

"That would make about as good of cover as any, actually," I remarked, surprised I hadn't thought of it. "Actually, I was thinking more like… personal security to the prince."

He propped his head up on one hand and looked at me. "How serious are you about this, Byakuya? I mean, you hardly know me."

"Perhaps that's best when it comes to this. Most of the people I really know want to kill me," I remarked dryly.

Wide eyes peered back at me. "Tell me you're kidding," he demanded.

"I can't. Squabbling nobles that still want the throne and sometimes my own parents want little more than a _dead_ crown prince." I shook my head. "I know it sounds horrible, but throwing a player they can't predict into the mix will stump them for a bit."

"And you want _me_ to be that new player?"

I smiled at him. "You're utterly gorgeous, eye-catching, and competent. The rest of the skills I need you to have can be taught fairly easily."

He seemed a little torn. "What about… _this_?" he inquired, gesturing at the air between the two of us.

"That's why you'll be an incredibly impressive consort. You don't _have_ to do the duties of the consort; sleeping in my bed would probably be enough. And it will give us time to… _explore_ this." I kissed his chest lightly.

He shivered. "You know, my boss _did_ tell me I could not say no to you," he whispered softly. "I bet he had no idea how _right_ he was."

With a smile, I kissed his lips. Things would certainly get… _interesting_ from here on in.

* * *

_Gods, 3000-ish words from Berry-chan and close to 4000 from my little prince. Fucking hel, shoot me now!_

_Okay, after the blowjob and the hand-job, I'm all sexed out. These two are not getting to the big leagues for several chapters now. . I can't even think about another sex scene without dying a little inside._

_After finally getting Byakuya to ask his Berry-chan to live with him and be his love (sorry, sorry. I think I'm cute when I quote old poetry) plus having to go back and fix Ichigo's age like twice, I'm exhausted. I'm gonna need some hard down time!_

_Anywho! If anyone wants to see the lovely piece of fan-art that inspired Byakuya's sudden interest in that beautiful chest of Ichigo's... I'll post a link on my profile. It ain't mine, but it's friggin' gorgeous, so you should go love on the artist :)_

_Also, I know I've got a bit OOC with Byakuya, but please recall he is young and impulsive hormonal teenage Byakuya... so I feel less OOC about him... Really, really open Bya-kun is really really cute ^^ Don't you agree?_

_I hope you loved this chapter! Let me know what you liked, pretty pretty please?_

_Ever at your pleasure,  
~Sins~_

6960 words - Chapter 7


	10. Chapter 8

_I would like to apologize for taking so much time away from this story. I did say that I was utterly exhausted after that last scene. In truth, I fought with a lack of motivation for a while. It was hard to get my mojo back.  
But here it is! Are you ready for another fabulous chapter? I really had high ambitions for the length of this chapter, but my muses laughed in my face… _

_Anywho! I had two lovely reviewers that only signed in as guests, so the replies to their reviews will follow._

_pj:  
_Let's just call Ichigo a distracted little Berry, haha.  
Well, keep in mind how he reacted to hearing that people wanted his little prince dead... He wasn't exactly thinking about his cousin working at the palace...  
But I was. :heart:

_ATP:  
_That's actually how my friends and I play 20 Questions. It's fun, really.  
Well, remember: this is young and impulsive Byakuya. I assume an innocent Byakuya is more prone to (lovely) blushing~  
Byakuya didn't reveal the truth about the dreams, though, so Ichigo has no idea. And Ichigo still has several secrets from the prince…  
Kaien and Princess Rukia; Ichigo and his prince. Would you believe I really hadn't thought about that? It actually just happened because I always thought the Kaien/Rukia pairing interesting... though I did reverse the apparent attachment between Renji and Rukia. *sweat drop*  
I tried to be original with this one. It's been brewing in my mind for a long time, and I'm glad it's coming out as well as it is!  
King Hajime and Queen Akane need taken out and stabbed or something... I'll have to figure out a way to take care of them...  
You're quite welcome for the promise. I must in turn thank you for your commitment. I always look forward to your reviews and they always make me happy, so keep leaving them, okay?

_Alrighty then! On with the show!_

_Sorry to slow the pace a bit after having that much… action in the last chapter, but story development takes time!_

* * *

_Ichigo:_

I found it strange that after so many years of hiding all of myself from others –my name, my past, my name, and my heart– I revealed myself in the strangest of ways to the most unlikely person: I dozed off next to the absolutely gorgeous creature that happened to be the crown prince of Nigotta. To my credit, I _did_ wake up about ten minutes later –before my little prince even dreamed of opening his eyes.

Of course, when I _did_ wake up, I set my head in my hands. What, by all things holy, _what_ had possessed me to kiss him like that? Had I taken one look at him, thought _He's the one for me_, and tossed all caution to the wind? It had to be more of a matter of convenient distraction –there had been a lot of men I'd wanted to distract in my career, and I hadn't kissed anyone else! Had it been his ethereal beauty and startling innocence that had made me forget the rules given to me by the man who trained me?

_He tapped his cane against the ground. "Listen up, Berry, because I will only say these things once. Though I do permit it, I don't even like the girls in my shop to do this, let alone someone I've known all his life."_

_I nodded quickly. "I understand, Hat-and-Clogs-san," I returned respectfully. "Thank you."_

_He shifted the brim of his hat. "Don't thank me. I'm only doing this because I know your father and I know the future your sisters will have if you don't put this plan into action."_

_I gave him a look. "That is the only reason this plan exists."_

_His answering expression was without humor. "I know that, too."_

_The silence between us was long and pensive._

_He took a deep breath. "So. Lesson one: Kisses are for lovers. Don't ever forget that. It's the reason clients don't kiss their companions and why you won't kiss your clients. Offering kisses implies an intimacy that will be missing from the situation, and you don't want your client confused on that issue. Nor do you want to be confused about the situation, either. Understood?"_

_"Yes, sir."_

I shook off the memory as quickly as I could. While his lessons had saved me a lot of trouble, I didn't particularly want to recall them at the moment –especially not when I'd forgotten the first lesson so easily! Then again, I'd taken one look at Byakuya and known that he would _never_ be just an ordinary client. With a sigh, I cast my gaze in his direction and watched him. the rise and fall of his chest was steady, rhythmic, and I found myself relaxing as I concentrated on that rhythm.

Watching his sleep felt _intimate_, more intimate that kissing his lips or touching his body or even sucking him off. I didn't know why. Perhaps it was six years of selling myself to survive and living among others that did the same that made me view waking up next to someone as something more intimate than sex.

Sex was a need, a drive. People sated that need and then just got on with their lives. It was the hurried quickie in a back alley or back room, or the night you spent with a prostitute crying out someone else's name. It was a matter of stimulation and urges.

But waking up wrapped around a man who had worried about my pleasure felt like… well, pardon me for sounding naïve and corny, but it felt like love. Simple little things like touches and the need to explore and pleasure one's partner… those were different from the selfish way I perceived sex.

Watching Byakuya sleep wasn't something I needed for my own pleasure, but it gave me pleasure in its own way. I couldn't fight my desire to play in his loose ink-dark hair. As my fingers laced through the silky strands, I thought about how beautiful he was, about how stunningly innocent he still managed to be despite how jaded he seemed, about the sweet way he tasted. Unfortunately, by thinking about him I managed to prompt my lazy mind to rewind to the last conversation we'd had before sleep had overtaken us both.

He'd ask me to live at the palace with him, to play the role of consort while being the head of his security. I hadn't even thought about it all that much before answering him with the 'yes' he'd wanted to hear. Yet now, my brain began to shift through all of the hows and whys and reasons-I-should-have-said-no.

Shiba Kaien, the man that my little prince had placed in charge of his younger sister's safety, was still the largest obstacle, and that was only if I completely ignored my birth status, current class status, occupation, and gender. Then again, my relationship with Kaien related back to two of the other four factors. My older cousin never had taken well to the pronouncement of the clan head that cut my family off from them. He, his wife, his sister and his brother had never let the clan's ruling get between them and my family, which had always made me feel all the closer to Kaien, Miyako, Kūkaku, and Ganju.

Yet therein also lay the problem. The moment Kaien became aware of my new position as the prince's consort, my father would hear of it. Pretending that it wouldn't bring up any other questions was a delusion I wouldn't –no, _couldn't_– allow myself to have. There _would_ be questions and answers and truths and half-truths and blatant lies. My father would either die of a heart attack or hunt me down and kill me. My sister Karin would just beat the hell out of me for doing this to myself. Sweet little Yuzu would get stuck in the middle of the whole mess, anyway.

The only upside I could see would be that the Shiba clan, ever conscious of its limited political powers and bent on increasing it, would invite my family back into the fold. I hoped my damn goat-faced father would spit in their faces, because I certainly wasn't doing this for the benefit of the clan that had abandoned us when we needed it most.

If I had to examine each and every action I'd made since we were cut off from the Shiba clan –my father's _family_– when I was only ten, I was pretty sure that I would find that none of my actions had ever been for my own pleasure. I had made many decisions: leaving my family, moving to another city, trading on my looks to get a position in a brothel as a thirteen year old, waiting until I had enough experience to move to a better brothel, and so many more little actions. Each decision had definitely had a huge impact on life as I knew it, but I had made those decisions so that Karin and Yuzu wouldn't have to make them. I had thrown away my only chances of a normal life so that my younger sisters could have a chance at a _real_ life, the type of life my mother had wanted for all of us. Yet it wasn't with that goal in mind that I had accepted my little prince's offer.

If I were truly honest, it had barely even crossed my mind to say 'no' to Byakuya. There was something about him, about those sad old eyes of his, that tied me in a multitude of knots and made my heart race. While the sensation was a little uncomfortable, it was far from unpleasant. When he'd asked me to come to the palace, to _live_ with _him_ and to _protect him_, my heart seemed to whisper, _Here: this man, this _prince_ –he is a man you could fall in love with._

With that particularly sappy sentiment, I opened my mouth to tell him 'no' –there were so many reasons to tell him 'no', the least of which being that my little prince deserved so much better than a nineteen-year old whore that had been born a noble– only to find that the words tumbling off my lips in no way added up to a stark denial. Instead, they were an affirmation.

It was the first choice I had made for my own happiness since I was ten years old.

May the gods help me if it was the wrong one.

* * *

_Byakuya:_

I awoke to the feeling of fingers sliding gently through my hair.

My first thought was of Hisana, but even my barely-awake consciousness knew that my wife was dead and had been for a while. Besides, Hisana had never awakened me that way, despite her apparent fascination with my hair. Still, I wanted to know who had touched me so gently. As my eyes fluttered open, my gaze met as certain softness in whisky-colored eyes as a warm gentle hand stroked my brow.

Allowing my eyes to fall shut once more, a slight smile turned up the corners of my lips. It was _him_, the boy I'd been dreaming about since I was nothing more than a boy myself. I searched my mind for his name, knowing that I'd never heard it in my dreams but that he'd told me, not allowing my eyes to open again until I found it. Then and only then did my eyelids slowly lift.

"Ichigo," I greeted softly, surprised at the level of huskiness in my voice.

His answering smile was full of wonder, as though I'd said something magnificent or special or important. It was punctuated by a lazy, sweet kiss before he answered me. "Byakuya," he whispered softly against my lips.

Suddenly, I had a much better appreciation of the wonder I'd read in his expression earlier –probably because its mirror image was most likely present on my own face. Allowing my fingers to twine and twist in the soft strawberry-blond locks, I brought his lips back to mine for a smoldering kiss.

We kissed for a while longer, savoring the taste of each other and the promise of the future.

An old poem I read once came to mind. I couldn't remember who had written it or how old it was, only that it had evoked much emotion in me even as a child. But as I drew back from his sweet lips, I couldn't keep the first quatrain of the poem from tumbling past my lips.

_"Drink to me only with thine eyes  
And I will pledge with mine;  
Or leave a kiss but in the cup  
And I'll not ask for wine."_

He smiled at me and brought his lips back to mine to nip gently at my lower lip. "That's lovely, my little prince. Who wrote it?"

I blushed when he called me that, mostly because I loved the sound of it –I loved that he already claimed me as _his_ most of all. "I don't remember, exactly, but it _is_ lovely, isn't it… You brought it to mind, Ichigo."

Warm lips pressed firmly against mine for an instant before he withdrew and looked away. Instantly concerned, I cupped his face with my hands and turned it my way, wanting to know why he'd pulled away. To my surprise, he wore a dark blush. It only seemed to darken when my gaze met his for a moment. He worried his lower lip between his teeth and otherwise wore a particularly adorable embarrassed expression.

I couldn't help myself: it was just so sweet that he could blush so easily at such a simple compliment, even living as he had. I pressed my lips against his again, my hand sliding back to anchor in his hair as I traced that alluring full lower lip with my tongue. He made a soft noise and opened quickly to me, seeking out my tongue and sucking on it until he drew it into his own mouth. Tantalizing fingertips trailed down the curve of my spine while the other hand seemed to get lost in the long strands of my hair.

Breathing became sharp, panting puffs of air between open lips that separated for mere moments before meeting again in the same dance. We kissed again, deep and searching and scorching. I could feel the heat growing between us and swimming in my blood. I had never understood the excitement, the pure lusty _joy_ of sweet heady kisses, of the rush of sheer pleasure, of the undiluted heat that burned between two people. Poets and playwrights and the other great writers of eras long past had written about love and lust in the most romantic and glowing of terms. This was the first time in my life that all of the beautiful love words and all of poetry and music and lyrics made _sense_ to me.

When he covered my body with his own and brought our lips back together, I suddenly remembered our nudity. How something like that had slipped my mind, I would never know. Especially since when that beautiful body was touching mine, I couldn't think about anything _else_!

I slid my hands down his back in a slow caress and he arched into like a cat and released a smooth, silky sound.

"Byakuya," he whispered against my lips.

To punctuate his voice, he raised his hips against mine and startled a harsh sound out of me.

I could do nothing but tremble at the sensation and at the way he spoke my name, as though it deserved reverence merely because it belonged to _me_ and not because it belonged to a prince. And for the first time in my life, I felt like something other than an honor-bound crown prince, the heir to the throne, a child, or a chore. With Ichigo, I felt like more because he treated me like I was precious, a treasure, a gift from the gods. Ichigo had never given me any reason to doubt that he saw the person behind the title, the rank, and the gossip. Our connection was personal on several levels, more intimate than I'd ever allowed myself to be with anyone else.

I felt like the man wandering through the desert without a canteen or bottle of water. As I stumbled through the sand, I saw mirages of the water I was dying to taste. Now, after meeting Ichigo, after getting to know him, after sharing with him, I knew without a doubt that he was my water. And I wanted to quench my thirst.

* * *

_The poem used in the text is "To Celia" by Ben Jonson, a poem I have always loved for the sheer longing beauty of it._

_What else… Oh, I nearly forgot to include Ganju as part of the group that always kept in contact with Ichigo and his family… I feel bad now… ooops? I went back and fixed it, though, so that should count for something, right?_

_Sorry this chapter is only a little over 2000 words… but it _is_ an update!_

_So let me know what you'd like to see, who you'd like to see more of, maybe even how you think people should come to know about this change of roles for Ichi… anything, really, but please review! All reviews are welcome as long as they are positive and/or constructive, and they make me want to keep writing more!_

_Ever at your pleasure,  
~Sins~_

2432 words - Chapter 8


	11. Author's Note: Side-Story Available!

There is a SPOILER available for the One Trick Pony Universe!

It is available only on my livejournal account for now, but it is 3000 words about _another_ (male/male) couple involved in this universe, so you might be interested in reading it! It contains mild spoilers about Ichigo... but it will fit better after a few more chapters of this piece.

There is a link to my livejournal account on my profile, but it's a pretty easy url.  
sinsofmidnight . livejournal . com [of course, subtract the spaces]

Also, I'd like to take a moment to apologize from not being active in posting more on this piece. I've just hit a bit of a block. I may have to do another interlude chapter.

One more important thing! The contents of this not will merge into the intro for the next chapter, so this note should disappear soon (I hope. I really need to get back into this universe because I love it!).

Ever at your pleasure,  
~Sins~


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